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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


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THE 


SCENERY   OF  ITHACA 


3Pftt*w  of  to  0ap0* 


PORTRAYED  BY  DIFFERENT  WRITERS, 


AND  EDITED 


BY  THE   PUBLISHER. 


ITHACA,  N.  Y. : 
SPENCE   SPENCER 

1866. 


F 


.1* 


TO  THE 

HON.    EZRA    CORNELL. 

The  Publisher  dedicates  this  Book  to  one  whose  name  will 
ever  be  known  and  Jwnored  throughout  the  State;  to  one  who 
has  done  so  much  for  the  welfare  of  Ithaca;  who  has  done 
and  is  still  doing  so  much  to  improve  and  beautify  it,  and 
whose  name  and  memory  will  here  be  remembered  and 
cherished  for  the  many  kindnesses  to  individuals,  "  the  small 
sweet  courtesies  of  life"  as  well  as  commemorated  by  the 
Grand  College  Halls  that  are  here  to  be  reared,  and  which 
will  make  his  name  a  household  word  to  future  generations. 


211698 


Those  who  visit  Ithaca,  see  in  and  around  it  every 
thing  to  constitute  it  a  great  summer  resort.  They 
visit  Taghkanic,  Lucifer,  Fall-Creek,  Buttermilk, 
Lick-Brook,  Cascadilla;  walk  through  the  wild  ra 
vines,  climb  the  rugged  rocks,  or  sail  on  the  silvery 
Cayuga,  and  say  that  Ithaca  possesses  more  scenery, 
wild  and  beautiful,  and  well  worth  seeing,  than  any 
other  place  in  the  State. 

The  Publisher  of  this  book  has  procured  descrip 
tions  of  these  resorts,  and  hopes  that  this  work  will 
fall  into  the  hands  of  thousands  who  seek  recreation 
and  amusement  in  travel  in  the  summer  season.  It 
is  proper  for  him  to  say  also,  that  the  articles,  hav 
ing  in  most  part  been  written  by  different  indi 
viduals,  who  seem  to  have  been  inspired  by  the  same 
thought,  some  repetition,  both  of  ideas  arid  words, 
has  been  unavoidable. 


OUR  SCENERY. 


Rome  boasted  of  her  seven  hills,  from  whose  throne  of 
beauty  she  ruled  the  world.  Ithaca  makes  her  boast  of 
seven  streams,  concerning  which  she  challenges  the  world. 
Each  of  these  has  a  character  of  beauty  peculiar  to  itself, 
so  that  they  must  all  be  seen  to  comprehend  the  perfect 
whole.  Enfield  is  distinguished  by  its  giddy  winding 
walk  along  the  sides  of  the  profound  precipices.  The 
Ravine  of  Lick-Brook  is  as  utterly  wild  as  on  the  day 
when  Ithaca  was  a  log-cabin  under  the  hill ;  on  the  con 
trary,  the  explorer  of  Six  Mile  Creek  emerges  at  brief 
intervals  into  the  sight  of  farm  houses  and  cultivated 
fields.  The  interest  of  Taghkanic  mainly  centers  in  its 
magnificent  Fall,  215  feet  in  height ;  whereas  the  Casca- 
dilla,  as  its  beautiful  name  imports,  is  remarkable  for  its 
numerous  smaller  though  not  less  picturesque  cascades, 
not  many  of  them  rising  to  the  dignity  and  sublimity  of 
falls.  Fall  Creek  is  distinguished  by  its  broad  and  unfail 
ing  stream,  which  at  all  seasons  goes  sounding  through 
its  almost  impassible  gorge  and  casts  itself  headlong  over 
the  nearest  and  noblest  of  all  our  cataracts,  the  Ithaca 
Fall. 

Contrasted  with  this,  is  the  untastefully,  though  not 

unaptly  named,  Buttermilk  Ravine,  where  the  stream  is 

so  shallow  and  at  the  same  time  distributes  itself  so 

widely  over  the  rocks  as  to  partake  the  foamy  whiteness 

2 


10  SCENERY  or  ITHACA. 

belonging  to  the  product  of  the  churn  rather  than  of  the 
spring. 

If  you  find  yourself  in  the  social  mood,  pile  up  a 
"  democrat"*  with  genial,  laughter-loving  friends,  and  go 
to  Goodwin's.  If  your  "  soul  is  dark,"  take  a  sun-shiny 
day,  and  wander  among  the  woodland  paths  that  border 
the  Cascadilla,  or  through  the  Ravine  of  Buttermilk.  If 
you  feel  that  you  need  to  be  sobered  and  solemnized,  if 
you  yearn  for  what  Thoreau  calls  "  the  wild,"  if  your 
poetry  has  gone  to  seed,  and  your  bump  of  veneration  is 
flattening  apace,  hie  to  Fall  Creek,  and  spend  an  hour  on 
its  overhanging  cliffs,  listening  to  the  boom  of  the  cataract, 
or  lose  thyself  in  the  twilight  shade  and  primeval  solitudes 
of  Lick-Brook.  If  you  want  a  pleasant,  varied  stroll, 
without  being  burdened  with  any  particular  object  except 
to  enjoy  a  good  walk  hand  in  hand  with  nature,  take 
your  lunch  and  book,  say  Thoreau's  Excursions,  or  Bry 
ant,  or  Thompson's  Seasons,  or  Isaac  Walton  (though  I 
will  not  promise  any  fishing),  and  explore  the  Six  Mile 
Creek.  You  are  always  safe  in  going  to  Enfield,  if  it 
does  not  rain,  though  experience  has  demonstrated  to  the 
writer  that  from  4  to  6  of  a  summer  afternoon  is  the  hour 
of  extra  enjoyment.  It  is  essential  in  visiting  Enfield,  it 
may  be  well  to  remark  in  this  place,  to  conclude  with  a 
repast  of  broiled  chickens  previously  ordered  at  the  inn, 
and  to  return  by  the  lower  or  inlet  road.  If  you  have 
time  to  visit  or  to  take  your  friends  to  visit  only  one 
ravine,  choose  Enfield  by  all  means,  as  combining  the 
largest  combination  of  striking  and  interesting  features. 
If  two,  add  Fall  Creek.  Then  Buttermilk.  If  so  hnppy 
as  to  visit  four  or  five,  let  Taghkanic  and  the  Cascadilla 
come  next  in  their  order.  Lick-Brook  should  not  be  put 


*  The  Ithaca  name  for  a  particular  kind  of  open  three  or  four 
seated  \vagou,  much  affected  by  excursionists  in  these  parts. 


OUR  SCENERY.  11 

later  than  the  sixth,  and,  if  you  can  possibly  spare  a  day 
longer,  and  wish  to  leave  in  a  vigorous  physical  condition, 
do  not  neglect  to  trace  the  windings  of  Six  Mile  Creek. 

There  are  ingenious  literary  manufacturers  who  roll 
out  from  their  mills  legendary  lore  by  the  yard  or  piece, 
and  will  invent  you  a  legend  as  readily  as  another  class 
will  furnish  the  resident  of  Petroleum  Square,  or  the  great 
house  of  Shoddy,  with  a  venerable  coat  of  arms.  We 
have,  as  yet,  favored  this  enterprising  guild  with  no 
orders,  so  that  our  wilds  may  seem  singularly  destitute 
of  that  mossy  and  ruinous  charm  which  tradition  im 
parts.  There  have  been,  doubtless,  the  usual  number  of 
lover's  leaps,  and  Indian  maiden's  rocks,  and  sybil's 
caves,  et  id  omne  genus.  In  fact,  some  of  these,  on  ac 
count  of  their  wide  fame  and  authenticity,  have  been 
admitted  hito  these  pages.  But,  in  the  most  part,  we 
have  preferred  to  leave  these  things  to  the  delightful  ex 
ercise  of  the  tourist's  invention.  The  little  we  know  of 
the  aboriginal  Ithacans  is  mainly  confined  to  doubtful 
reminiscence  of  border  raids. 

And  in  later  days  how  could  we  tell,  save  if  some  little 
bird  had  whispered  them  to  us,  the  tales  of  love  and  dis 
appointment,  of  questions  put  and  answered  which  have 
narrowed  life  into  a  dark  ravine  or  expanded  it  into  a 
sunny  landscape  ?  What  legends  are  comparable  to  the 
merry  reports  of  pic-nic  parties,  dancing  in  the  wildwood 
or  ignominiously  caught  in  showers,  and  crouching  under 
rocks  and  trees  ?  What  so  sad  and  suggestive  as  the 
chapter  of  accidents  which  have  shadowed  some  of  these 
glens,  where  a  single  heedless  step  has  produced  irrepara 
ble  and  eternal  consequences.  It  rejoices  me  to  think 
how  many  a  burdened  spirit  has  cast  off  its  load  in  these 
calm,  unworldly  scenes;  how  many  a  mind  has  gathered 
the  inspiration  which  reiippeared  in  verse,  or  painting,  or 


12  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

scholarship,  or,  better  yet,  a  refined  nature  and  a  holy 
life  ;  how  many  a  thought  of  beauty  or  of  peace  has  been 
wafted  on  the  spray  of  these  waterfalls,  or  gathered  by  a 
spiritual  geology  from  these  worn  and  ancient  rocks. 
For  hath  not  old  Burton,  maundering  in  his  quaint  and 
learned  talk,  said,  "  Truth  is  no  doctoresse,  she  takes  no 
degrees  at  Paris  or  Oxford,  among  great  clerks,  disput 
ants,  subtle  Aristotles,  men  nodose  ingenii,  able  to  take 
Sully  by  the  chin.  But  oftentimes  to  such  a  one  as  my 
self,  an  idiota  or  private  person,  no  great  things,  melan- 
cholizing  in  woods  where  waters  are,  quiet  places  by  rivers, 
fountains  (whereas  the  silly  man,  expecting  no  such 
matter,  thinketh  only  how  best  delectate  and  refresh  his 
mynde  continually  with  nature,  her  pleasant  scenes, 
woods,  waterfalls),  on  a  sudden  the  goddess  herself,  truth, 
has  appeared  with  a  silvering  light  and  a  sparkling  coun 
tenance,  so  as  yo  may  not  be  able  lightly  to  resist  her." 

Some  of  the  sketches  of  scenery  in  this  volume  may 
perchance  seem  to  the  general  reader  tediously  minute. 
But  after  a  little  practical  experience  of  rambling  among 
our  glens,  this  will  no  longer  be  an  objection.  The  writer 
remembers  so  keenly  the  unnecessary  delay  and  fatigue 
undergone  by  himself  in  experimenting,  before  he  had 
learned  the  most  direct  and  easiest  paths,  and  even  the 
most  attractive  scenes,  that  he  desires  to  mark  out  the 
way  so  clearly  step  by  step,  that  "  the  way-faring  man, 
though  a  fool,  need  not  err  therein."  Consequently  these 
sketches  have  been  written,  paper  and  pencil  in  hand,  on 
the  spot.  How  far  he  has  succeeded  in  that  which  con 
stitutes  his  humble  ambition,  viz :  to  furnish  a  trustworthy 
guide,  who  shall  smooth  the  tourist's  path  and  heighten 
his  appreciation  of  these  grand  and  lonely  scenes,  without 
needlessly  obtruding  himself  or  his  rhetoric,  the  practical 
test  alone  must  decide. 


OUR  SCENERY.  13 

In  this  labor  of  love,  taken  from  the  gravest  and  highest 
of  all  duties,  we  have  been  governed  by  no  vulgar  com 
mercial  motive  of  advertising  our  village.  The  God  of 
Nature  forbid  that  we  should  "  stick  our  bills  "  in  sacri 
legious  defacement  upon  such  works  of  his  own  hand  as 
these.  Our  motive  is  drawn  from  the  veritable  rapture 
with  which  our  astonished  eyes  first  looked  upon  the 
scenery  of  Ithaca  and  its  environs,  and  the  inexhaustible 
and  growing  resources  which  we  have  found  in  these 
beautiful  retreats  for  the  recuperation  both  of  a  wearied 
mind  and  body,  and  for  the  repose,  culture  and  exaltation 
of  the  spirit.  So  satisfied  have  we  been  in  the  conscious 
ness  of  our  "  hidden  treasures,"  that  we  have  made  an 
effort  to  display  them  to  the  world.  But  the  time  has 
come  when  wre  must  send  out  into  the  highways  and 
invite  all  the  lovers  of  nature  to  share  with  us,  that  our 
joy  may  be  the  more  full.  If  in  our  instinctive  shrinking 
from  all  vain-glorious  boastings,  and  from  aught  which 
might  savor  of  the  showman's  panegyric,  we  have  done 
injustice  to  our  scenery,  we  wTill  at  least  secure  the  satis 
faction  of  hearing  the  remark  common  among  the  visitors 
to  our  locality,  "  The  half  was  not  told  us." 

NOTE.  • —  It  may  be  well  to  remark  that  there  are  springs  on  this 
etream,  both  sulphur  and  chalybeates. 


FALL  CREEK. 


BY  REV.  F.   N.  ZABIUSKIE. 


Reader,  can  you  climb  ?  And  have  you  a  day  to  spare  ? 
Then  furnish  yourself  with  "  provend"  alike  for  the  body 
and  for  the  mind,  but  no  more  than  you  can  stow  into 
the  compass  of  coat  pocket  or  knapsack  ;  encase  your  feet 
in  thick  soled  boots,  far  more  suited  to  pilgrim  than 
"  sandal  shoon,"  though  less  poetical ;  and  let  your  Jehu 
drive  you  down  Aurora  street  to  the  manufacturing  sub 
urbs  known  as  Fall  Creek.  Thence  across  the  bridge 
which  spans  the  stream  of  that  name  on  the  Auburn 
road. 


FALL  CREEK.  15 

Leave  your  carriage  the  instant  you  are  over  the 
bridge,  and  turn  short  around  to  your  right,  up  the  foot 
path  which  ascends  the  north  bank  of  Fall  Creek.  You 
will  have  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  you  stand  upon  one 
of  those  platforms  which  nature  always  provides  for 
seeing  her  waterfalls,  and  the  first  and  grandest  of  our 
cataracts  is  rolling  its  white  flood  before  your  eyes.  You 
are  astonished  at  the  impressiveness  which  a  fewT  yards 
nearer  view  has  imparted. 

The  Fall,  from  the  bridge,  was  like  some  quiet  picture. 
Here  you  feel  the  wTild  rush  and  roar  of  its  headlong 
waters,  and  catch  the  thrill  of  its  restless  life.  If  you  be 
so  fortunate  as  to  visit  the  spot  just  after  a  freshet,  you 
will  see  a  scene  which  no  equal  section  of  Niagara  can 
surpass,  so  vast  the  volume  of  water,  so  dark  and  sullen 
its  hue,  besides  its  peculiar  efflorescent  appearance  as  it 
breaks  against  the  ragged  cliff  in  its  descent,  the  lofty 
column  of  spray  which  rises  like  the  smoke  of  a  conflagra 
tion  at  its  foot,  almost  hiding  the  entire  front  of  the  Fall, 
and  above  all  the  gorgeous  rainbow  spanning  the  stream 
from  side  to  side,  and  rising  in  a  perfect  arch  higher  than 
the  Fall  itself.  The  w^ater  is  rarely  so  low  but  that  the 
rocks  are  covered  with  a  snow  white  and  flowing  veil,  like 
some  fair  bride  of  nature.  The  height  of  the  Fall  (which 
is  known  as  the  Ithaca  Fall  par  excellence),  cannot  be 
much  less  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  the  breadth 
fully  as  much. 

It  comes  pouring  through  a  deep  and  shadowy  defile  of 
towering  cliffs,  on  which  the  tall  pines  stand  as  sentinels, 
and  to  whose  sides  cling  the  sure-footed  chamois  of  the 
vegetable  kingdom.  At  its  foot  lies  a  deep,  dark  pool, 
deep  enough  to  drown  a  man  at  all  seasons. 

The  close  observer  at  Taghkanic  notices  that  the  water 
assumes  in  falling  the  slope  of  Indian  arrow-heads.  By 


16  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

reason  of  the  jagged  nature  of  the  rocks  down  which  it 
pours,  fhe  water  of  this  Fall  is  picturesquely  broken  up, 
as  if  a  hundred  small  cascades  were  set  like  gems  in  one 
great  frame.  These  unwrought  gems  are  of  every  shape 
and  of  various  hues.  I  am  reminded  of  Aaron's  mystic 
breast-plate,  and  find  a  Urim  and  Thummim  here  also,  on 
the  breast  of  nature,  God's  most  ancient  high  priest  to 
man.  But  I  will  not  be  so  presumptuous  as  to  attempt 
describing  a  waterfall.  A  flood  of  words  can  never  re 
present  a  flood  of  waters,  and  not  even  the  pencil  of  a 
Church  can  more  than  give  the  shadow  of  its  terrible 
beauty.  So  we  will  move  on  to  the  second  scene  of  this 
our  first  act. 

Continue  along  the  verge  of  the  bank  about  fifty  feet 
further,  and  you  stand  upon  another  platform,  affording 
a  still  finer  view.  Here  the  mills  and  the  village  have 
passed  out  of  sight,  and  shut  in  by  the  trees  on  every  side 
except  that  which  opens  toward  the  Falls,  is  a  place  to 
lie  and  dream  the  summer's  day  away.  Once  more,  if 
you  love  the  spice  which  danger  lends  to  enjoyment 
(though  not  danger  to  him  who  takes  heed  to  his  feet), 
pursue  the  self  same  path  as  far  as  you  can  go,  and  the 
third  scene  opens  upon  you,  finest  view  of  all.  The  Fall 
has  continued  to  grow  in  impressiveness  in  geometrical 
ratio  to  your  approach,  and  seems  taller  and  broader,  and 
its  voice  of  greeting  more  deafening.  On  your  left  is  an 
amphitheatre  formed  by  perpendicular  rocks,  which  rise 
three  or  four  hundred  feet  from  the  bed  of  the  stream. 
At  your  feet  lies  the  dark,  deep  tarn.  Opposite,  the 
bright  green  cedars  cover  the  face  of  the  rocky  wall. 
The  giant  palisade,  which  stretches  northward  from  the 
cataract,  towers  far  above  all  the  rest,  and  wears  upon  its 
beetling  brow  a  shaggy  garland  of  evergreens.  Behind 
you,  the  valley  beginning  to  open  on  the  view,  the  willow 


FALL  CREEK.  19 

avenue  stretching  almost  across  it,  and  the  high  and  fer 
tile  hills  closing  in  the  picture. 

We  now  return  along  the  narrow  foot-path,  and  find 
that  "facilis  est  descensus"  Nor  are  we  timid  now,  for 
the  near  communion  of  the  waterfall  has  imparted  a  tonic 
to  the  nerves  and  baptized  us  into  the  spirit  of  adventure. 
We  return  to  the  first  stand-point  from  which  we  viewed 
the  Fall,  and  ascend  by  a  foot-path  through  the  chest 
nuts,  oaks  and  evergreens  that  cover  the  cliff  above  us. 
Stop  and  rest  occasionally,  if  you  would  retain  your 
strength  for  future  effort.  And  you  can  well  afford  to 
pause,  for  there  is  unfolding  behind  you  a  fine  view  of 
the  village  and  the  valley.  Nature,  as  usual,  helps  the 
climber  with  roots  and  twigs,  and  saplings  forming  rail 
ings  and  balusters  ready  to  your  hand  exactly  where  they 
are  needed.  When  you  have  reached  the  top  I  hear  you 
shout,  as  when  Xenophon's  Greeks  discovered  the  sea, 
the  Lake !  th*  Lake !  For  directly  in  front  of  you,  like  a 
broad  and  sunny  panorama,  lie  the  waters  of  Cayuga, 
reflecting  the  sky  and  the  outline  of  its  own  shores,  with 
perhaps  a  distant  sail  dotting  its  surface,  or  a  steam  boat 
gliding  noiselessly  on  its  way.  Nothing  can  exceed  the 
tranquil  beauty  of  the  water,  or  the  rich  and  varied 
coloring  of  its  shadowy  shores.  The  proportion  of  wood 
land  and  cultivated  field  is  perfect,  and  the  contrasts  of 
light  and  shade,  as  the  shores  fade  away  in  the  distance, 
may  well  heal  and  cure  the  weary  eye,  alike  of  the  cob 
webs  of  study  and  the  jaundice  of  the  gold  fever.  The 
peculiarly  beautiful  picture  presented  by  the  lake  here,  is 
due  partly  to  the  fact  that  nothing  is  seen  but  the  lake 
itself  and  its  accessories,  and  partly  to  the  incomparable 
foreground,  the  effect  of  which  can  only  be  appreciated 
by  being  seen. 

You  follow  up  the  narrow  tongue  of  land  from  which 


20  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

you  have  been  looking,  and  now  you  have  reached  the 
summit,  along  which,  with  mounting  soul  and  body,  you 
have  been  clambering.  Look  down.  Let  not  your  head 
whirl,  though  the  gorge  below  you  be  four  or  five  hundred 
feet  deep.  If  oratorical,  exercise  your  gifts  of  utterance 
from  this  magnificent  rostrum,  and  out  roar  the  cataract. 
If  nervous,  hurry  on  the  descending  path.  In  a  moment 
you  stand  amid  the  shaggy  gardens  of  pines  and  cedars, 
which  we  saw  crowning  the  precipice.  I  need  not  de 
scribe  the  sensations  of  this  giddy  standing-place,  as  you 
look  down  upon  the  steady  plunge  of  the  water  over  the 
rocks  below. 

You  pursue  your  path  along  the  ravine's  edge,  treading 
a  pavement  of  rocks  hundreds  of  feet  thick.  Soon  you 
reach  a  jutting  precipice,  on  which  a  solitary  pine  stands 
sentinel,  and  in  which  the  vast  fissures  and  crevices 
threaten  sooner  or  later  a  gigantic  disruption.  This  is 
nature's  platform  for  viewing  .the  second  *Fall.  Deep- 
seated  in  the  evergreen  woods,  we  call  this  the  Forest 
Fall.  It  is  at  a  bend  of  the  stream,  where  the  rocks 
above  rise  very  high  and  near  together.  Though  not 
half  as  high  as  the  Ithaca  Fall,  it  is  still  very  satisfactory 
and  impressive,  having  the  advantage  of  a  wilder  scene 
and  the  full  volume  of  the  stream.  As  we  pass  on,  there 
are  three  or  four  other  points  from  wThich  it  can  be  seen 
to  advantage  each  time,  with  an  almost  kaleidoscopic 
change  of  appearance. 

Still  mounting  up,  like  the  eagles,  we  soon  come  in 
sight  of  the  third  Cataract.  This  is  about  as  high  as  the 
Forest  Fall,  but  totally  different  in  other  respects.  The 
water  just  where  it  flows  over  the  precipice,  forms  a  little 
island.  The  two  streams  thus  made  are  forced  into  a 
narrow  pass  by  the  conformation  of  the  rocks  down 
which  they  tumble.  The  result  is,  that  the  poor  water  is 


FALL  CREEK.  21 

tortured  and  lashed  into  a  condition  of  boiling  rage  and 
frothing  whiteness,  which  will  justify  the  name  we  pro 
pose  for  it  of  the  Foaming  Fall.  The  Rapids  between 
this  and  Forest  Fall  are  exceedingly  wild  and  swift,  the 
bed  of  the  stream  being  rilled  with  fallen  trees  and  huge 
boulders  from  the  rocks  above. 

Pass  on  till  you  reach  a  rude  fence  or  hedge,  and  enter 
a  low  and  tangled  copse  of  pine  and  hemlock.  The 
gleam  of  our  Fourth  Fall  flashes  upon  your  sight  and  its 
regular  thunder-beat  rises  to  your  ear.  Now  descend  to 
the  bed  of  the  stream.  The  path  is  not  at  all  difficult, 
and  you  wTill  be  richly  repaid  by  the  wild  and  sylvan 
beauty  of  the  scene.  I  need  not  describe  it  to  those  who 
visit  it,  and  I  am  unable  to  depict  it  adequately  to  those 
who  do  not.  The  Cataract  from  the  successive  ledges 
of  rocks  over  which  it  glides  we  will  name  the  Rocky 
Fall. 

Your  way  now  lies  along  the  rocky  stairs  and  sidewalk 
formed  by  the  edge  of  the  stream,  if  the  water  be  low. 
If  not  you  will  be  obliged  (unless  you  are  prepared  to  do 
a  little  wading)  to  clamber  up  the  rocks  again  just  above 
the  Fall.  In  this  "  scramble"  I  commend  you  to  the  good 
offices  of  some  very  friendly  roots  and  saplings,  which 
crook  their  arms  and  stretch  out  their  hands  for  the 
behest  of  poor  pilgrims.  Pass  under  the  foot  of  the 
perpendicular  rock  which  you  reach  at  the  height  of 
about  40  feet.  A  few  rods  farther  on  your  way  descend 
once  more  to  the  bed  of  the  stream  and  will  find  no  more 
difficulty  in  wrild  and  beautiful  glen.  Presently  the  sides 
of  the  Ravine  close  above  you  in  towering  and  rocky 
walls  and  a  distant  boom  tells  you  of  your  approach  to 
another  Cataract,  and  suddenly  as  you  pass  a  bend  of  the 
stream,  you  come  in  sight  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
spots  of  Ithaca  scenery.  You  stand  in  a  vast  amphi- 


Of    THE 

UNIVERSITY 


22  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

theatre  of  frowning  rocks.  Through  a  narrow  opening 
at  the  farther  end  with  a  downright  plunge,  and  a  prodi 
gious  rising  of  foam  at  its  base,  the  whole  volume  of  Fall 
Creek  pours.  The  rocks  rise  far  above  you,  with  trees 
clinging  to  the  extreme  edge,  as  if  peeping  over  to  catch 
awful  glimpses  of  the  scene  beneath.  The  water  below 
the  Fall  is  dark  in  color,  except  where  it  is  lashed  into 
little  "  white  caps."  The  echo  of  the  opposite  cliff  is 
almost  stunning,  deepening  and  more  than  doubling  the 
roar  of  the  Cataract,  which  doubtless  from  this  regular 
and  answering  beat  is  called  the  "  Triphammer  Fall." 
It  seems  almost  as  if  those  "mills  of  the  Gods"  which 
"grind  sknvly"  but  "grind  exceedingly  small"  might  be 
turning  their  Cyclopean  wTheels  inside  the  rocks.  Above 
you  is  a  narrow  strip  of  calm  and  holy  sky  to  relieve  the 
somberness  of  the  scene,  and  perhaps  the  sunshine  is 
lighting  up  the  Fall  with  sparkle  and  gleam  and  rainbow. 
But  alas !  wretched  mortal  that  I  am.  Here  am  I  again 
trying  to  describe  the  indescribable,  and  to  show  off 
Nature's  glories  as  if  they  were  calico  patterns.  So  I  fly 
the  scene,  and  leave  you  at  the  foot  of  "  Triphammer," 
to  find  your  way  back  through  the  Ravine  till  you  dis 
cover  a  comfortable  place  to  ascend  to  the  heights  above. 
Thence  you  move  like  an  argosy  richly  freighted  wTith 
golden  memories  to  the  place  whence  you  set  out,  a 
wearier,  but  a  wiser  and  I  trust  a  better  man.  It  will 
repay  you  to  take  the  Sugar  Loaf  hill  (which  you  will  see 
on  your  right)  by  the  way,  for  it  commands  one  of  the 
widest  and  loveliest  prospects  in  all  this  region. 


FALL  CREEK. 

A  Southside  View. 

BY  REV.  F.  N.  ZABRISKIE. 


ELL  your  hackman  to  drive 
you  up  the  Dryden  Road 
which  passes  the  Cemetery 
gate.  It  is  slow,  up  hill  work 
to  get  out  of  Ithaca  in  almost 
any  direction,  but  the  tedi- 
ousness  is  more  than  com 
pensated  by  the  unfolding 
landscape  to  which  every  step 
adds  new  breadth  and  beauty- 
After  a  half  mile  of  pano 
rama-seeing,  you  are  greeted 
by  the  hoarse  voice  of  Fall 
Creek,  plunging  and  roaring, 

in  its  deep  abyss.  Your  nature  straightway  chords 
itself  up  to  a  harmony  with  the  wierd  music,  and  you 
are  ready  for  the  wild  and  sublime  scenes  which  lie 
before  you.  The  road  now  runs  parallel  to  the  Ravine, 
and  its  romantic  situation  along  the  edge  of  the  profound 
abyss,  as  also  from  its  graceful  windings  and  continuous 
shade,  constitutes  one  of  our  most  attractive  drives. 
Pursue  it  for  half  a  mile  further  or  even  a  mile,  but  be 


26  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

sure  to  return  to  a  point  opposite  the  Dam.  Here  you 
dismiss  your  carriage  to  meet  you  near  the  Bridge  at 
Fall  Creek,  and  strike  boldly  into  the  woods,  till  you 
reach  the  Dam,  which  is  no  inconsiderable  Fall  in  itself 
at  high  water ;  at  least,  it  does  very  well  to  begin  with, 
and  enables  you  to  moralize  on  the  contrast  between  the 
waterworks  of  Art  and  of  God.  A  good  subject  of  compa 
rison  is  just  before  you,  in  a  Fall  about  the  height  of  the 
Dam,  but  oh !  how  beautifully  different  from  the  smooth 
and  graceful  monotony  of  that.  This  little  sidewise  Fall, 
which  turns  its  face  to  you  as  you  start  up  the  bank, 
flows  across,  and  not  down,  the  stream.  On  the  left  it 
plunges  straight  over,  as  if  to  show  the  Dam  that  it 
knows  how  to  do  that  also.  In  the  centre,  the  water 
breaks  midway  on  a  projection  of  rock,  which  splits  and 
scatters  it  into  a  huge  bouquet  of  foam  flowers,  while  on 
the  right  several  distinct  cascades  are  thrown  together 
into  a  narrow  opening  in  the  rocks  with  something  of 
the  result  of  mixing  an  inconceivably  monstrous  seidlitz 
powder.  A  deep,  clear  pool  at  its  foot  serves  as  a  mirror 
for  this  gay  and  versatile  young  Fall  to  view  her  varied 
charms,  of  which  she  is  so  careful  to  present  a  front  view 
to  the  visitor.  You  could  say  at  first  that  she  was  an 
uncommonly  noisjr  little  coquette  also,  but  although  she 
has  her  full  share  of  song,  as  well  as  beauty,  and  fleetness, 
you  would  do  her  injustice  if  you  attributed  all  this  racket 
to  her  alone,  since  the  sound  of  two  Falls  are  here  blended 
remarkably  into  a  duet. 

If  it  be  the  afternoon  of  a  bright  day  (which  is  always 
the  fittest  time  for  such  an  excursion),  the  opposite  side 
will  look  very  lovely  and  sunny,  with  its  sloping  bank 
covered  with  evergreens,  and  the  soil  brown  and  clean 
with  their  accumulated  deposit  of  piny  leaves.  It  looks 
peculiarly  so,  as  you  stand  in  the  shadow  and  gaze  across 


FALL  CREEK.  29 

the  wild  flood.  It  may  bring  to  mind  consolingly,  when 
our  hearts  are  in  the  shade  and  chill  of  sorrow,  the  sunny 
land  which  lies  beyond  the  whirl  and  tumult  of  this 
present  life. 

Proceed  along  the  brink  a  short  distance,  and  the  other 
feature  in  this  Duet  of  Floods  lifting  up  their  voices  is 
discovered.  You  stand  directly  over  "Triphammer 
Fall."*  Its  cyclopean  hammers  are  ringing  with  the 
same  steady  and  answering  beat,  and  its  solemn  ravine 
is  as  impressive  as  when  we  viewed  them  from  below. 
You  will  however  notice  better  than  before,  how  the 
water  comes  winding  and  gliding  through  its  narrowing 
pass,  till  at  the  narrowest  part  of  all  it  plunges  over  in 
an  amber  flood,  and  how  just  at  the  foot  it  strikes  upon 
an  opposing  rock  and  rebounding  breaks  into  the  wildest 
foam.  As  you  pass  on  do  not  be  afraid  of  the  brink. 
Most  falls,  unlike  the  "  wee  things"  just  described  are  coy 
and  shrinking,  and  love,  like  Dryads,  to  hide  behind  thick 
veils  of  forest  leaves.  If  you  would  catch  her  brightest 
glances,  you  must  woo  nature  boldly,  and  pull  aside  the 
veil  every  now  and  then.  After  a  succession  of  these 
"  peeps,"  we  come  to  nature's  private  box  for  viewing 
this  exhibition,  with  the  great  advantage  over*  private 
boxes  in  general  of  giving  a  front  instead  of  a  side  view. 
It  consists  of  a  flat  rock  extending  out  over  the  ravine, 
and  forming  a  natural  platform,  apparently  hundreds  of 
feet  over  the  still  dark  stream.  "Triphammer"  may 
here  be  viewed  in  all  its  glory,  and  in  the  other  direction 
the  Ravine  may  be  followed  by  the  eye  as  far  as  Rocky 
Fall. 

As  you  pass  up  the  road  (in  fact  all  along  the  roadside), 


*For  a  description  of  this  and  the  other  Falls  mentioned  in  this 
sketch,  see  our  former  article  on  Fall  Creek. 


30  SCENERY  or  ITHACA. 

your  attention  is  attracted  by  immense  ant  heaps.  This 
seems  to  be  a  favorite  residence  for  these  industrious 
little  citizens,  for  you  will  find  a  reference  to  these  ant 
hills  in  the  account  of  a  ramble  along  Fall  Creek  pub 
lished  no  less  than  thirty  years  ago. 

You  leave  the  road  again  just  beyond  a  huge  railing 
formed  of  tree  trunks,  and  dive  into  the  woods  for  a 
distance  of  about  twenty -five  feet  to  the  place  where  a 
gigantic  elm  towers,  and  its  giant  brother  lies  overthrown 
across  your  path.  From  this  point  you  gain  a  remarkable 
view  of  no  less  than  three  (in  fact,  we  may  say,  four), 
Falls ;  so  brought  into  line  juxtaposition,  as  to  look  like 
one  continuous  fall  of  at  least  two  hundred  feet.  If  it 
were  indeed  anything  more  than  an  optical  illusion,  it 
would  be  altogether  the  crowning  Cataract  of  Ithaca. 

A  front  view  of  the  fourth  or  Rocky  Fall  may  be 
obtained  by  leaving  the  road  again  when  nearly  oppo 
site  the  barns  which  you  presently  approach.  The  descent 
is  easy  here  to  the  bed  of  the  stream,  and  a  pleasant 
ramble  will  bring  you  immediately  above  the  Fall,  which 
may  be  viewed  as  closely  and  from  as  many  points  as 
w^as  Triphammer  just  now.  If  you  are  not  a  very  strong 
and  resolute  climber,  however,  you  had  better  leave  this 
out  of  your  programme,  as  retracing  your  steps  would 
prove  so  exhausting,  as  to  unfit  you  perhaps  for  the 
remainder  of  the  excursion. 

For  quite  a  distance  now  we  can  only  take  shuddering 
glimpses  down  the  wooded  sides  of  the  precipitous 
ravine,  and  see  only  darkness  or  an  occasional  gleam  of 
spray,  and  hear  only  a  smothered  roar  as  of  dens  of  lions. 
At  length  we  come  to  a  place  where  a  path  diverges 
from  the  road  before  us,  guarded  at  the  entrance  by  an 
ancient  and  broken  veteran  of  a  tree.  We  descend, 
stooping  under  a  fallen  trunk,  which  lies  across  the  path, 


FALL  CREEK.  31 

and  bids  us  "make  our  manners"  on  approaching  one  of 
nature's  most  sacred  and  lovely  shrines.  If  you  reach 
the  Ravine  at  the  farthest  point  on  your  right  you  obtain 
a  fine  view  of  Rocky  Falls.  If  you  keep  straight  along 
the  ridge,  you  find  yourself  in  a  most  secluded  and  favo 
rite  retreat  of  the  writer,  which  he  calls  his  "Eagle's 
Nest."  You  are  on  a  rocky  seat  projecting  out  into  the 
Glen.  On  three  sides  of  you  the  rocks  go  hundreds  of 
feet  straight  down ;  above  your  head  there  is  an  arbor  of 
interlacing  branches.  The  seat  on  which  you  sit,  is  luxu 
riantly  cushioned  with  green  moss  two  or  three  inches 
thick,  that  completely  covers  it,  and  the  footstool  below, 
with  dry,  warm  soft  upholstery.  Opposite  a  frowning 
wall  of  rock,  it  rises  from  the  bottom  of  the  Glen,  covered 
in  winter  ofttimes  with  shafts  and  stalactites  of  ice  of  the 
most  enormous  and  imposing  kind.  There  is,  in  fact,  a 
grand  and  novel  beauty  about  all  these  Ravines  in  the 
depth  of  winter,  which  one  can  scarcely  realize  in  summer. 
As  you  sit  in  the  sublime  solitude  of  your  "  Eagles'  Nest," 
you  catch  through  the  trees  the  gleam  of  Rocky  Fall. 
Directly  beneath  your  feet  the  voice  of  Foaming  Fall 
rises  tempting  you  with  that  peculiar  sensation  experi 
enced  on  the  brow  of  precipices,  to  cast  yourself  off,  if 
perchance  God's  Angels  will  bear  you  up  lest  you  dash 
your  foot  against  a  stone.  To  the  left  stretches  away  a 
picturesque  and  suggestive  view  second  to  none  of  which 
Ithaca  can  boast.  You  have  a  bird's  eye  view  of  the 
whole  Glen  below  you  and  of  the  valley  beyond.  Come 
to  this  spot  at  about  sunset  of  an  Indian  summer  day,  as 
I  have  done.  The  stream  winding  down  in  shadow 
between  its  rocky  walls  away  out  into  the  meadows  and 
the  Lake,  the  summits  of  the  cliff  all  along  the  Ravine 
lighted  up  with  the  radiance  of  evening,  the  peaceful 
fields  seen  through  the  narrow  portal  at  the  farther  end, 


32  SCENERY  or  ITHACA. 

the  purple  hills  shutting  in  the  horizon,  the  successive 
lines  on  the  surface  of  the  Creek  which  mark  the  plunge 
of  Cataracts,  the  solemn  warning  voice  of  the  floods,  are 
all  emblematic  to  the  thoughtful  mind,  "  What  is  your 
life  ?"  they  seem  to  say.  It  is  even  as  a  gliding  stream, 
marked  by  critical  situation  over  which  it  passes  as  down 
a  steep,  and  closed  in  by  high  and  narrow  walls  whose 
summits  are  touched  with  a  glory  that  shineth  from  afar 
as  from  a  setting  sun,  while  through  the  narrow  portals 
of  the  grave  beyond,  there  lies  a  smiling  country  seen 
by  the  eye  of  faith  and  hope.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  I 
love  this  spot,  whence  the  soul  learns  to  mount  up  as  on 
eagles'  wings,  or  that  I  have  given  it  the  name  just 
recorded  ? 

On  returning  to  the  road  another  divergent  footpath 
invites  you,  soon  leading  over  a  rail  fence  into  a  field. 
The  path  is  now  both  pleasant  and  easy,  the  deep  Ravine 
on  one  side  and  the  broad  landscape  on  the  other.  You 
are  walking  on  an  elevated  plateau  of  land,  and  far  below 
you  are  the  village,  the  valley,  and  the  Lake.  There  is 
however,  but  one  favorable  point  along  this  whole  path 
for  viewing  the  Falls.  The  descent  to  this  place  is 
marked  at  present  by  some  burnt  and  blackened  logs, 
When  you  reach  it,  especially  if  the  leaves  are  not  too  thick 
upon  the  trees,  you  have  a  striking  glimpse  of  no  less 
than  three  Falls. 

By  and  by  the  edge  of  the  Ravine  becomes  clearer  of 
trees  and  the  precipice  more  abVupt.  As  you  stand  on 
the  brink  you  look  directly  down  into  the  stream.  Upon 
the  opposite  side  the  rocks  stand  out  like  some  immense 
castle  wall,  with  great  buttresses  and  bastions  and  a  deep 
dark  moat  at  its  foot.  The  path  now  descends  rapidly, 
and  in  a  moment  or  two  you  discern  on  the  right  a  place 
where  stones  have  been  quarried  to  the  very  brink,  leaving 


FALL  CREEK.  33 

a  lofty  and  conspicuous  platform  on  the  one  side  sur 
mounted  by  a  solitary  Pine.  This  is  directly  above  the 
Ithaca  Fall,  and  commands  a  view  also  of  the  second  or 
Forest  Fall. 

You  next  arrive  at  the  entrance  to  the  Tunnel.  This 
is  a  Flume,  excavated  for  a  distance  of  a  hundred  feet 
through  the  solid  rock.  A  body  of  water  pours  through 
sufficient  to  turn  a  dozen  mills.  Over  this  subterranean 
stream  you  walk  on  a  platform  of  planks,  and  the  ca 
vernous  gloom,  the  rushing  water  beneath,  the  stifled  roar 
of  the  Falls  beyond,  and  in  Winter  the  long  icicles  that 
hang  like  stalactites  from  the  ceiling,  impart  a  novel  and 
exciting  sensation.  On  emerging  at  the  farther  end  you 
stand  in  a  scene  of  great  grandeur  and  wildness,  in  view 
of  the  Forest  Fall,  and  on  the  very  brink  of  the  Ithaca 
Fall,  while  above  you  tower  the  giant  crags,  ahd  we  descry 
many  of  the  spots  associated  with  our  rambles  on  the 
margin  of  the  Ravine.  It  is  a  good  place  too  for  trying 
the  voice,  just  outside  the  Tunnel's  mouth,  which  acts  as 
a  sounding  board,  and  helps  our  feeble  organs  to  cope 
wTith  the  thunder  of  the  Fall  and  Dam.  As  you  return 
be  sure  to  step  across  the  raging  stream  which  tears  like 
a  demoniac  down  its  craggy  bed,  upon  the  Rock  Island 
formed  by  the  Creek  on  one  side,  and  the  flume  on  three. 
Here  Nature  has  provided  a  platform,  with  a  tree  or  two 
to  hold  fast  by,  whence  the  finest  view  of  Ithaca  Fall  is 
obtained.  You  are  alniost  directly  over  it,  and  yet  suf 
ficiently,  if  front,  to  observe  its  whole  surface. 

You  now  seek  the  road  through  the  yard  of  Andus 
McChain  &  Go's,  paper  mill.  It  will  interest  you  however, 
even  after  all  you  have  seen,  to  step  aside  and  notice 
the  course  of  the  torrent  which  boils  and  roars  and 
plunges  down  the  narrow  channel  to  the  mills. 

You  bid  farewell  to  Fall  Creek  on  the  Bridge,  whence 
5 


34  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

you  obtain  the  most  picturesque  view  of  the  splendid 
Ithaca  Fall.  The  screen  of  leaves  behind  which  it  seeks 
to  hide  its  beauties,  the  Island  in  the  centre  of  the  stream, 
the  romantic  beauty  of  the  upper  Ravine,  through  which 
the  water  approaches  the  precipice,  and  the  more  quiet 
aspect  of  the  descending  sheet  like  a  magnificent  curtain 
dropped  upon  a  series  of  panoramic  views,  leave  a  pic 
ture  on  your  mind,  which  you  gladly  carry  away  as  a 
memento  of  your  afternoon's  excursion. 


TAGHKANIC  FALLS. 

BY  WM.    H.   BOGABT, 

We  settle  and  agree  that  this  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
water  descents  of  our  State  shall  be  designated  TAGH 
KANIC.  It  is  quite  likely  that  we  may  not  be  entirely 
accurate  in  the  orthography  —  and  its  syllables  may  in 
the  common  rendering  be  found  out  of  place,  but  it  is 
wisest  to  adopt  what  is  so  universal.  A  careful  examina 
tion  of  its  origin  seems  to  indicate  that  it  was  called  by 
the  Indians  "  the  Great  Fall  in  the  Woods,"  and  as  so 
remote,  and  shrouded  in  thick  forest,  and  quite  away 
from  the  Lake  route  of  their  canoes,  the  name  seems 
appropriate.  It  is  besides,  euphonious,  and  we  greatly 
prefer  it  to  the  designation  of  Goodwin's  Falls,  by  which 
it  was  for  many  years  known.  The  Goodwin  family 
were  respected  settlers  on  or  near  to  the  extensive  Point, 
which  has  been  formed  by  the  outpouring  of  soil  for  the 
ages,  in  the  action  of  the  little  stream  whose  fall  is  the 
delight  of  all  who  see  it.  The  name  of  the  hamlet 
which  forms  the  steamboat  Landing  is  Goodwin's  Point. 
It  is  about  eight  miles  in  a  north-westerly  direction  from 
Ithaca.  At  the  time  these  pages  are  written  the  access 
by  the  steamboat  is  easy,  so  far  as  the  times  and  route  of 
the  boat  is  concerned,  but  the  wharf  is  very  insufficient  — 
afforded  to  the  traveler  only  by  the  courtesy  of  the 
owners  of  the  paper  mill  which  is  Taghkanic's  gift  to  the 
practical  —  the  little  pier  is  covered  with  a  chaos  of  coal 
and  merchandize,  and  is  a  very  unsuitable  entrance  to  a 


38  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

scene  which  is  of  the  most  interesting  in  all  our  State's 
book  of  nature.  The  proper  facilities  must  yet  be  built, 
for  every  year  will  augment  the  number  of  the  tourists 
who  will  be  pilgrims  to  this  chief  cascade  of  all  that  circle 
Ithaca.  A  pier  directly  at  the  center  of  the  Point,  would 
give  a  fine  road  to  the  Falls,  and  would  make  a  journey 
easier,  which  is  quite  enough  surrounded  with  difficulty 
to  make  it  interesting  at  all  times.  There  are  three  ways 
of  going  to  the  Falls,  or  to  the  sight  of  them.  We  recom 
mend  all  three  of  them,  but  to  different  classes.  The 
young  and  active  may  easiest  encounter  difficulties  which 
those  less  in  possession  of  strength  might  best  avoid,  as 
very  easily  they  can.  There  is  a  plain  and  good  road  all 
the  way  to  Mr.  HALSEY'S  Hotel,  which  is  beautifully 
placed  on  the  bank  that  overlooks  the  Fall,  and  where 
can  be  found  the  neatness  and  order  which  makes  it  the 
pleasantest  of  all  rural  Hotels  —  with  all  that  is  con 
venient  for  a  temporary  home — with  an  excellent  table 
—  with  all  that  is  needed  to  enjoy  the  most  leisurely  view 
of  Taghkanic.  This  road  route  is  safely  recommended  as 
offering  the  least  fatigue,  and  as  accompanied  by  all  that 
those  who  seek  to  clothe  the  hours  with  carpet  could 
desire.  Our  eulogy  of  the  Hotel  is  a  genuine  one.  We 
repeat  that  it  is  the  pleasantest  of  all  that  are  in  the  sur 
rounding  of  forest  and  field.  But  the  view  of  the  Falls 
from  above  is  not  that  which  enables  Taghkanic  to  be  seen 
as  its  beauty  deserves.  The  next  route  is  to  pursue  that 
plain  and  well  marked  road,  keeping  near  the  edge  of  the 
ravine,  with  care  to  the  footstep  'till  an  entrance  is  seen 
to  the  long  Staircase  which  admits  a  passage  to  the  gorge 
below.  This  ladder  of  steps  is  a  great  convenience,  and 
a  safe  one,  to  all  of  steady  head.  An  invalid  would  find 
it  a  severe  labor,  but  as  they  who  visit  Taghkanic  are 
usually  in  the  high  glee  of  full  strength  and  health,  all  the 


TAGHKANIC  FALLS.  39 

difficulties  of  the  ascent  and  descent  of  these  stairs  are  but 
in  the  catalogue  of  the  events  of  the  day.  There  is  a  defined 
path  at  the  end  of  these  steps  —  a  sort  of  Indian  trail 
tread,  which  can  be  easily  followed,  and  it  leads  to  the 
foot  of  the  Fall. 

But  the  best  of  all  the  ways  in  which  the  Taghkanic  Fall 
is  to  be  seen,  and  that  which  reveals  all  the  glories  of  the 
great  gorge,  its  beauty  of  varying  forms,  its  wild  gran 
deur,  is  somewhat  to  combine  all  the  modes  of  access 
described.  Soon  after  crossing  the  bridge  near  the  Lake 
shore,  there  is  a  sudden  and  steep  turn  to  the  left,  and  a 
well  worn  path  up  a  spur  of  a  hill,  the  first  chapter 
of  our  route.  This  hill  is  of  the  steepest  climbing  we 
are  to  encounter,  and  if  successfully  done,  it  may  be 
regarded  as  something  of  the  luxury  of  the  worst  being 
over.  It  is  successfully  done,  and  has  been  by  the  clever 
and  the  beautiful  —  by  bright  men  and  fair  women,  by  all 
varieties  of  the  adventurous,  and  its  acclivity  easily  gained. 
Once  at  the  top,  the  path  skirts  the  ravine  by  the  side  of  a 
cultured  field,  and  gives  as  we  pass,  the  superb  view  to 
the  North  of  the  CAYUGA,  opening  far  and  wide,  its  blue 
mirror  fringed  with  all  the  gold  of  harvest  in  the  gather 
ing  time  —  headland  and  bay  blending  their  bold  or 
curving  lines  in  the  long  coast  range.  The  land  beyond 
Aurora  is  seen,  and  the  picture  fascinates  to  delay  us 
before  we  find  our  path  leading  us  downward,  and  the 
descent  to  the  stream  is  made,  over  fallen  trees,  by  ravine 
defile,  and  through  tangled  foliage  till  the  water  is  reached. 
And  here  the  adventurous  visitor  realizes  the  truth  of  the 
French  maxim,  ce  n'est  que  le  premier  pas  qui  Coute. 
Our  difficulty  is  in  the  beginning.  Through  a  close  net 
work  of  young  trees  we  find  the  creek  intercepting  our 
progress. 

All  the  road  up  the  gorge  is  wild  and  difficult,  but 


40  SCENERY  or  ITHACA. 

every  step  of  it,  is  amidst  scenery  so  picturesque  that  the 
toil  is  gladly  borne.  There  is  small  use  of  bridge  or 
foot  path,  for  there  are  successive  seasons  in  the  year 
when  the  sudden  fury  of  the  water  would  remove  the  one 
and  occupy  the  other,  and  thus  at  the  first  inevitable 
crossing  of  the  creek,  the  way  is  left  to  the  ingenuity  of 
the  tourist  —  to  the  strong  arm  and  the  ingenious  hand. 
We  do  get  over,  and  we  Avill  suppose  that  the  transit  is 
successfully  made.  It  is  only  at  this  point  that  the  creek 
need  be  crossed  on  the  way  up.  The  course  is  to  keep 
to  the  left,  and  over  a  series  of  rough  ways ;  through  and 
along  the  gorge,  we  go  around,  a  distance,  about  a  mile  — 
a  vigorous  mile  of  exertions  to  be  abundantly  rewarded  at 
the  close.  All  the  journey  up  the  ravine  is  a  demand  on 
our  admiration,  for  the  gorge  is  walled  in  by  vast  heights 
—  of  bare  and  of  wrooded  rock.  They  rise  treeless,  and 
as  if  they  would  exhibit  to  us  all  the  processes  of  geologi 
cal  condition,  or  so  densely  covered  with  forest,  as  that 
there  seems  a  perpetual  mystery  in  their  concealment. 
Especially  as  we  near  the  Fall,  there  is  on  the  left  hand, 
or  south  side,  far  and  deep  episodes  of  glen  within  the 
greater  glen,  leading  off  to  invite  us  to  explore  them  and 
detaining  us  from  the  onward  progress.  Few  do  make  the 
exploration,  and  they  abide  summer  and  winter,  nooks 
and  recesses  of  woodland,  the  very  chosen  home  of  the 
Fawn  and  the  Dryad,  if  the  mystery  of  mythology  were 
yet  interlaced  with  our  forest  life.  The  bold  heights  are 
pinnacled  and  castellated,  and  the  sky  seems  like  a  narrow 
river  of  blue  ether  flowing  above  us.  We  forget  the  rude 
loading  in  the  study  of  this  wildly  written  chapter  of  crea 
tion.  We  turn  out  of  one  of  these  deep  wood  paths  to 
the  right,  and  upon  us  is  the  Taghkanic  —  the  most  win 
ning  and  beautiful  of  Falls.  That  pure  veil  of  misty 
water,  turning  into  woven  air,  almost  from  the  instant  it 


TAGHKANIC  FALLS.  41 

leaves  the  brow  of  the  precipice,  and  so  gently,  so  sweetly 
changing  into  foam  —  pure  silver  threaded  wool  like  foam 
—  and  at  last  not  dashing  or  breaking,  but  gliding  into  the 
chasm  below.  There  are  what  seem,  different  fibres,  (if 
we  may  use  that  word),  of  the  water  that  make  up  the 
Fall  and  these  are  intermingled  in  sweetness  of  union. 
The  water  has  a  descent  so  free  that  it  seems  to  use  a 
leisure  of  movement,  and  it  is  easy  to  enumerate  the  sec 
onds  in  the  time  of  the  fall.  Beneath  it  nearly  all  the 
way,  the  rock  is  visible,  and  there  is  a  foliage  there  that 
is  thus  perpetually  bathed  by  the  crystal  cascade.  It  is 
a  very  diamond  of  beauty,  set  in  all  the  rugged  and  fierce 
scenery  of  that  dark  and  wild  glen.  It  is  like  a  fairy  sur 
rounded  by  a  rude  guard  of  giants.  It  is  a  surprise  of 
loveliness  amidst  darkness  and  gloom.  The  glen  has 
intended  to  give  a  great  amphitheatre  for  the  Fall,  which 
true  to  its  shy  sweetness  of  notice,  occupies  but  brief 
space  in  that  extended  circle.  A  little  pool  seems  to  be 
in  constant  attendance  at  the  foot  of  the  cascade,  as  if 
lingering  to  talk  to  the  Taghkanic,  before  it  should  tell 
the  story  of  its  far  leap,  to  the  Cayuga,  to  which  it  is  to 
hasten.  Great  mounds  of  debris  are  beneath  the  cliffs, 
and  boulders  are  scattered  in  profusion,  welcome  seats 
and  convenient  tables  to  those  who  are  fascinated  to  lin 
ger  here.  Our  friends  who  have  taken  the  easier  upper 
route  are  perhaps  signaling  us  from  above,  but  they 
are  so  far  beyond  us,  that  we  but  imperfectly  see  them, 
and  indeed  with  better  taste  than  to  look  at  any  humanity, 
we  are  gazing  at  the  TAGHKANIC  itself,  seeking  to  imprint 
its  memories  so  truthfully  that  there  shall  be  something 
of  vivid  reality  in  the  delineation  which  we  shall  utter 
with  so  much  fervor  to  those  who  have  not  yet  seen  this 
loveliness. 

The  first  emotion  on  seeing  this  Fall  from  below,  is 
6 


42  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

one  of  surprise  —  not  at  its  height,  for  we  lose  the  details 
of  the  215  feet  of  perpendicular,  unbroken  descent,  in  the 
greater  effects,  but  at  its  pleasant  character  —  we  looked 
for  something  to  rage  and  roar  in  its  fearful  plunge.  It 
is  not  that  which  Taghkanic  delineates  for  us  in  its  pic 
ture.  It  conies  to  us  —  it  moves  to  us  —  it  rather  floats 
down  and  seems  as  if  something  of  peace  and  tenderness 
was  its  accompaniment.  Heralded  to  us  by  all  the  genii 
of  the  gorge  and  the  glen,  out  of  dark  and  deep  wood 
and  fell  forest,  it  has  its  own  distinct  calm,  as  if  it  would 
soothe  and  soften  us  after  our  weary  and  wild  walk. 
The  gentle  Taghkanic  claims  its  own  peculiarbeauty.  It 
lives  in  this  rough  ravine,  as  if  it  were  the  very  guardian 
angel  of  all  the  scene,  and  had  only  a  look  and  language 
of  kindness,  whatever  might  be  the  frown  around  it  of 
all  this  shadowed  glen.  We  turn  from  it  with  the  regret 
with  which  we  leave  a  scene  to  which  in  our  conscience 
and  taste  we  know  the  best  within  us  has  made  fellow 
ship.  We  shall  remember  this  when  the  cares  of  life 
have  crowded  around  us  again,  and  this  soothing  water 
shall  flow  over  our  hearts  in  ever  pleasant  remembrance. 

Few  return  the  entire  length  of  the  glen,  and  we  do 
not  recommend  this.  It  is  wisest  to  take  the  left  hand 
path  and  seek  the  stairs,  which,  once  ascended,  wre  are 
prepared  to  find,  just  what  we  do  find  in  Mr.  HALSEY'S 
house,  a  delightful  rest,  and  a  delicious  refreshment. 
These  stairs  are  formidable,  but  if  taken,  as  we  should 
take  life's  troubles,  cool  and  easy  and  one  at  a  time,  they 
are  but  a  pleasant  incident  in  the  adventures  of  the  day, 
and  indeed  they  so  diversify  the  route,  that  it  is  a  suc 
cession  of  novel  enterprises. 

If  the  inanimate  can  feel  emotion,  our  Lake  Country 
may  well  be  proud  of  its  TAGHKANIC.  It  has  no  rival  — 
no  superior.  It  does  not  belong  to  the  family  of  the 


TAGHKANIC  FALLS.  43 

stern  and  savage  Trenton,  so  resistless  and  impetuous ; 
but  it  does  place  itself  at  the  very  head  of  all  the  beauti 
ful  in  the  cascades  of  this  State.  Most  fortunately  all  its 
surroundings  are  as  we  could  desire.  The  glen  is  just  as 
rude  and  wild  as  the  charm  of  contrast  could  require. 
The  Lake  forms  the  most  delightful  road  thither.  It  is 
not  too  remote  from  —  not  too  near  to  —  the  great  high 
way.  It  has  its  own  most  agreeable  Hotel,  and  Ithaca 
with  all  its  incidents  of  a  busy  life,  is  within  an  easy  sail 
or  drive  —  and  thus  in  our  delineation  of  the  Scenery 
around  the  Village  of  The  UNIVERSITY — we  must  assign 
the  first  place  in  the  attractions  of  its  neighborhood  to 
the  TAGHKANIC. 


LUCIFER  FALLS. 

BY  WM.  H.  BREWER. 

Among  the  many  picturesque  spots  near  Ithaca,  none 
better  repay  a  visit,  nor  leave  a  more  pleasing  impression 
than  Enfield  Falls.  The  town  in  which  they  occur,  and 
which  gives  them  their  name,  is  a  fine  agricultural  region, 
and  fertile  farms  crown  its  rich  swelling  slopes,  which 
are  dotted  with  woodlands,  portions  of  the  virgin  forest 
that  covered  all  these  hills  but  a  generation  since.  The 
writer  was  reared  among  these  hills,  about  two  miles 
from  the  falls,  and  like  many  other  boys  of  the  neighbor 
hood,  was  familiar  with  the  spot,  long  before  it  became 
known  to  the  world  outside.  A  Grist  Mill  stood  near 
the  entrance  of  the  ravine.  Here  the  family  flour  was 
ground,  and  often,  long  years  ago,  while  "  waiting  for  a 
grist,"  with  other  boys,  we  penetrated  the  mysterious 
but  fascinating  "  Gulf."  That  was  what  we  called  it. 

To  be  sure,  a  party  of  tourists  from  a  distant  city  had 
visited  it  about  this  time,  and  had  called  it  Lucifer  Falls, 
and  had  given  fanciful  names  to  various  portions  of  the 
ravine,  but  to  us,  it  was  simply,  The  Gulf. 

In  those  times  it  was  of  difficult  access,  and  a  visit 
was  attended  with  much  fatigue,  and  not  a  little  danger ; 
but  these  only  made  a  visit  more  to  be  desired  by  ad 
venturous  boys.  We  crawled  along  narrow  shelves  of 
rock,  sometimes  could  only  reach  lower  levels  by  climb 
ing  into  the  tops  of  trees  and  descending  their  trunks. 


LUCIFER  FALLS.  47 

We  ventured  across  slippery,  slimy  rocks ;  but  tlie  risk 
was  amply  rewarded  if  we  could  only  get  to  the  top  of 
the  Main  Fall,  look  over  its  crest,  and  see  the  foaming 
flood  go  tumbling,  tumultuous  into  the  abyss  below, 
watch  the  spray  rise,  and  listen  to  the  hollow  roar  that 
came  back  from  the  nether  deep.  If  the  water  was  high, 
this  point  could  not  be  reached,  then  we  would  stop  in 
the  narrower  part  of  the  gorge,  and  screech  and  yell  to 
awaken  the  echoes  of  the  place.  Mysterious  stories  were 
current,  how  bears  still  lurked  there,  how  rattlesnakes 
watched  for  intruders,  and  how  counterfeiters  had  their 
shops  and  had  built  forges,  and  carried  on  their  dark 
work  in  t  his  wild  spot,  where  few  men  would  venture ! 

We  were  never  rewarded  with  a  sight  of  any  of  these, 
yet  a  firm  belief  in  their  existence,  was  only  shaken  by 
increasing  years. 

To  get  below  the  Falls  was  an  undertaking  of  less  risk 
but  more  labor.  We  had  to  descend  the  steep  bank  from 
the  very  top,  some  distance  below.  Nevertheless  we 
accomplished  it  nearly  every  summer,  and  it  was  a  hard 
day's  work.  Great  was  the  delight  when  we  got  into 
this  chasm,  and  looked  up  and  saw  the  foaming  waters 
coming  from  so  far  above.  A  swim  in  the  clear,  deep 
pool  at  the  base  of  the  Fall  was  one  of  the  rewards  of 
the  labor.  But  delightful  as  these  trips  were  to  "us 
boys,"  they  had  often  to  be  undertaken  clandestinely. 
Parents  could  not  see  it  in  the  same  light,  for  aside  from 
the  risk  to  life  and  limb,  we  generally  returned  with 
clothes  wet  and  torn,  and  with  bruised  limbs. 

In  later  years  we  have  seen  many  other  scenes  of  natu 
ral  beauty,  have  wandered  among  the  Alps,  seen  the 
beauty  of  Tyrol,  the  wonders  of  Yosemite,  and  the 
grandeur  of  Niagara;  yet  Enfield  Falls  seem  no  less 
beautiful  than  they  did  in  those  youthful  days,  and  a 


48  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

visit  to  the  old  home  would  not  be  complete  without 
seeing  them. 

Far  different  is  a  visit  now,  from  what  I  have  de 
scribed.  There  is  no  danger,  no  discomfort,  and  but 
little  fatigue,  thanks  to  the  enterprise  and  taste  of  the 
owner. 

The  place  is  about  six  miles  south-west  of  Ithaca,  and 
the  ride  is  a  charming  one.  We  first  pass  up  the  fertile 
valley  of  the  Inlet  for  two  or  three  miles,  luxuriant  crops 
of  rustling  corn,  or  rank  tobacco,  stretch  across  the  val 
ley  in  great  fields.  The  sluggish  stream  winds  through 
it  by  many  a  crook  and  turn,  with  its  banks  fringed  with 
sycamores  and  willows.  On  either  side,  high  but  gentle 
hills  shut  out  the  distant  view. 

And  now  we  begin  to  ascend  the  West  Hill.  It  is  a 
long  but  gentle  slope,  and  the  beauties  increase  as  we 
rise.  Wider  and  wider  becomes  the  field  of  view  as  hill 
be}rond  hill  comes  in  sight.  The  valley  WTC  have  left  is 
spread  out  before  us  like  a  map.  The  pretty  village  of 
Ithaca  lies  nestled  among  the  trees.  The  hills  beyond 
seem  tilted  up  as  if  for  our  inspection,  every  farm  and 
woodland,  and  road,  and  ravine  is  in  distinct  view,  and 
off  at  the  north,  the  Lake  adds  its  charms  to  the  scene. 
But  the  finest  view  is  towards  the  south.  In  this  direc 
tion  lies  a  rougher  country.  We  see  far  up  the  valley 
we  have  left ;  hill  rises  beyond  hill,  each  higher  than  the 
one  before,  to  the  great  ridge  which  divides  the  waters 
flowing  north  into  Lake  Ontario,  and  south  into  the 
Chesapeake.  This  ridge  forms  the  distant  blue  horizon. 
Fertile  farms  spot  the  rolling  hills,  the  woodlands  form 
ing  a  larger  element  in  the  landscape  as  it  becomes  more 
distant. 

This  view  is  always  one  of  surpassing  beauty,  whether 
seen  in  the  lively  green  of  spring,  or  in  the  heat  of  sum- 


LUCIFER  FALLS.  51 

mer,  when  the  ripe  grain  waiting  for  the  harvest  con 
trasts  its  rich  hues  with  the  dark  green  forests,  or  in 
autumn  when  the  w^oods  have  put  on  their  gorgeous 
colors,  and  when  the  shadows  of  more  frequent  clouds 
chase  each  other  over  the  landscape,  the  first  precursors 
of  winter. 

Before  we  are  aware  of  it,  or  have  viewed  this  charm 
ing  picture  to  our  satisfaction,  we  turn  a  corner,  a  little 
valley  lies  ahead  of  us  into  which  we  descend,  and  are  at 
the  Enfield  Mills  near  the  Falls.  We  stop  at  Enfield 
Falls'  Hotel,  where  our  horses  will  be  cared  for,  and  our 
own  wants  attended  to.  Mrs.  W.,  the  worthy  hostess 
of  the  house,  is  the  proprietress  of  the  land  upon  which 
the  Falls  and  Ravine  are,  and  whose  care  keeps  the  paths 
and  bridges  in  repair,  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
public.  Here  we  leave  our  horses,  order  our  dinner,  and 
then  set  out  on  foot. 

A  few  rods  walk  brings  us  to  the  mouth  of  the  ravine, 
where  we  cross  the  stream.  Before  entering,  we  turn 
and  look  back.  The  valley  widens  out  above,  pastures 
cover  the  slopes,  a  cluster  of  houses  and  gardens  are  in 
the  bottom,  among  which  the  large  flouring  mill  looms 
up  like  the  father  of  the  flock.  The  hills  close  in  where 
we  are,  as  if  to  bar  the  progress  of  the  stream.  And  this 
they  doubtless  once  did,  forming  a  lake  above.  Terraces 
on  both  sides  of  the  valley,  at  nearly  the  same  height, 
indicate  this,  and  other  facts  appear  to  confirm,  it.  This 
lake  must  have  been  drained  by  the  stream  cutting  the 
ravine  which  we  wrill  now  enter. 

The  beauties  begin  at  the  very  threshold.  The  rock  is  of 
soft  slates  and  shales,  alternating  with  strata  of  harder 
sandstones,  all  lying  nearly  horizontal.  The  softer  shales 
wear  away,  and  the  harder  sandstones  form  numerous 
cascades,  and  also  forms  the  bed  of  the  ravine,  which  in 


52  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

places  is  nearly  as  level  as  a  floor.  The  strata  fracture 
in  straight  lines,  and  thus  are  formed  walls  and  buttresses, 
marvelously  regular,  and  adorned  with  frieze  and  cor 
nice  and  battlement  as  if  crazy  architects  had  mingled 
half  a  dozen  styles.  Steps,  and  walls,  and  terraces  are 
there.  The  narrow  places  have  been  widened  by  art, 
and  the  way  is  easy  and  pleasant. 

We  pass  down  on  the  right  side  of  the  stream,  which 
falls  over  its  rocky  bed  in  frequent  cascades.  At  the  foot 
of  the  first  of  these  there  are  several  remarkable  "pot 
holes"  worn  by  the  action  of  the  water  in  the  rock.  One 
of  these  is  as  regular  and  nearly  as  round  as  a  well,  its 
sides  perpendicular  and  polished.  It  is  filled  with  clear 
green  water,  and  the  little  cascade  falls  into  one  side  of 
it.  Others  are  less  regular;  but  all  have  curved  sides 
beautifully  polished,  and  some  of  them  are  very  deep. 
The  stream  narrows  and  soon  rushes  for  some  distance 
in  a  narrow  channel,  like  a  plume,  a  mere  trough  in  the 
smooth  rock.  Here  we  cross  it  by  a  neat  bridge  about 
twenty  feet  above  the  rushing  water.  The  ravine  grows 
deeper  and  wider  as  we  follow  down  the  stream,  the  sides 
sometimes  rising  in  walls,  at  others,  the  rock  is  weathered 
and  covered  with  trees  and  bushes. 

We  now  descend  a  rude  rocky  staircase  into  what  was 
formerly  called  "  The  Devil's  Kitchen."  It  is  a  sort  of 
recess  on  one  side,  with  marvelously  regular  walls,  and  a 
rocky  floor,  both  of  which  have  lost  some  of  their  smooth 
ness  by  crumbling  during  the  last  twenty  years.  There 
we  have  more  narrow  rocky  shelves  to  pass  along,  and 
more  steps  to  descend  and  new  beauties  to  see  at  each 
turn,  when  we  reach  the  head  of  the  Main  Fall. 

Not  the  least  striking  feature  in  the  scene  is  the  aspect 
of  the  vegetation.  Hemlocks,  cedars,  pines  and  other 
trees  cling  to  the  steep  side  where  there  is  soil  to  nou- 


LUCIFER  FALLS.  55 

rish  them,  or  crevices  for  their  roots  to  hold  their  roots. 
Rock  Maple  with  its  delicate  tassels  of  flowers,  Yew,  with 
its  amber-like  berries,  grow  from  the  crevices.  Graceful 
ferns  droop  from  the  rocks,  and  wild  vines  festoon  them, 
delicate  mosses  and  curious  lichens  adorn  the  gnarled 
roots,  or  carpet  the  rocks.  The  delicate  Hare-bell  hods 
here  and  there,  and  the  grass  of  Parnassus,  with  its  exqui 
site  white  flowers  blooms  on  the  slimy  rocks,  and  the 
scientific  botanist  finds  here  many  other  rare  and  curious 
plants,  seldom  seen  by  the  common  observer,  to  gladden 
his  eye  and  enrich  his  herbarium. 

The  main  fall  is  not  perpendicular,  but  the  water  goes 
tumbling  and  rebounding  down  the  rocks  in  masses  of 
foam.  Its  height  is  said  to  be  160  feet,  (or  I  should  say 
its  depth,  for  we  see  it  first  from  above),  the  sides  of  the 
ravine  rising  nearly  a  hundred  feet  higher.  We  can 
stand  at  the  very  brink  of  the  fall  and  see  the  waters  go 
bounding  away  in  spray  and  foam  into  the  deep  abyss 
below  us.  Here  the  scene  changes. 

In  the  part  of  the  Ravine  we  have  passed  through,  we 
are  most  deeply  impressed  by  the  picturesque  beauty  ; 
but  here  is  grandeur.  Above  the  Falls  the  scenes  are 
pretty, —  below  they  are  sublime. 

A  well-made  and  safe  path  permits  an  easy  descent  to 
their  base.  We  first  pass  down  some  steps  close  by  the 
splashing  water  for  a  short  distance,  and  then  on  a  shelf 
cut  along  the  face  of  the  rock,  getting  grand  views  at 
each  turn.  Now  we  pass  along  the  narrow  shelf  with 
high  precipices  towering  overhead,  and  descending  deep 
beneath.  And  then  by  a  bridge  built  against  the  rocky 
wall,  from  which  we  look  down  into  the  dizzy  depth. 
This  part  of  the  path  is  but  short.  We  now  leave  the 
rock,  and  pass  down  a  winding  way  among  the  trees  to 
the  bottom. 


56  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

Here  one  sees  the  Falls  from  below,  and  they  seem 
bigger  from  our  change  of  position.  The  walls  seem 
higher  and  the  precipices  grander  as  we  see  them  from 
this  point,  with  their  upper  edge  thrusting  its  sharp  out 
lines  high  up  against  the  clear  sky. 

Below  this  the  Ravine  widens  out  and  becomes  less 
abrupt.  It  has  many  quiet  scenes  of  picturesque  beauty 
that  would  delight  the  artist ;  but  it  seems  tame  after 
visiting  the  wild  portion  we  have  passed,  so  we  will  not 
pass  down  it,  but  will  retrace  our  steps. 

As  we  pass  back,  we  will  all  notice  many  beauties  that 
escaped  us  on  our  way  down,  and  perhaps  no  two  of  our 
party  will  agree  as  to  which  is  the  finest  view.  We  will 
notice  some  things  more  in  detail,  and  perhaps  near  the 
"  kitchen,"  some  of  the  party  will  point  out  the  curious 
hollows  in  the  rocky  floor.  Many  of  these  resemble 
tracks  made  by  huge  moccasined  feet,  and  our  poet,  if 
he  chance  to  be  along,  can  easily  tell  stories  of  gigantic 
hunters,  Titans  in  size,  who  left  their  tracks  here  when 
the  rock  was  softer  in  the  earlier  ages  of  the  world. 

The  prosier  part  of  our  party,  however,  will  account 
for  them  by  the  action  of  water.  Then  with  spirits  ex 
hilarated  by  the  scenes,  and  appetites  sharpened  by  the 
pure  air  and  the  exercise,  all  will  hasten  back  to  the 
ample  dinner  prepared  by  the  worthy  hostess  of  the 
Enfield  Falls'  Hotel. 


LUCIFER  FALLS  AND  RAVINE. 


"  To  sit  on  rocks,  to  muse  o'er  flood  and  fell. 

To  slowly  trace  the  forest's  shady  scene, 

Where  things  that  own  not  man's  dominion  dwell, 

And  mortal  foot  hath  ne'er,  or  rarely  been ; 

To  climb  the  trackless  mountain  all  unseen, 

With  the  wild  flock  that  never  needs  a  fold ; 

Alone  o'er  steeps  and  foaming  falls  to  lean  ; 

This  is  not  solitude  ;  'tis  but  to  hold 

Converse  with  Nature's  charms,  and  view  her  stoics  unrolled." 


MONGr  the  many  places  of  in 
terest  with  which  a  bountiful 
Nature  has  supplied  this  fa 
vored  locality,  perhaps  there 
is  no  one  point  more  accept 
able  to  the  appreciative  tour 
ist,  than  the  magnificent  Cat 
aract  upon  "Five  Mile"  Creek, 
known  as  "  Lucifer  Falls ;"  a 
name  which  savors  of  so  great 
antiquity,  that  it  is  not  prob 
able  a  bard  can  now  be  found 
among  the  many  who  inhabit  the  adjacent  hills,  whose 
heroic  harp  continues  to  echo  the  reasons  of  its  giving. 

Although  there  are  many  cascades  of  great  beauty  — 
deep  mysterious  gorges  —  tremendous  barriers  of  rock, 
and  grand  forest  solitudes  to  be  encountered  at  every  turn 
of  the  path  which  conducts  the  visitor  along  the  course 
of  this  picturesque  stream,  yet,  for  a  rare  combination  of 
8 


58  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

all  that  is  thought  excellent  in  wild  landscape  scenery, 
the  grand  descent  of  "  Lucifer"  stands  preeminently  alone, 
and  is  the  point  to  be  sought  by  the  tourist  who  is  so  for 
tunate  as  to  be  wandering  in  its  vicinity. 

About  a  half  mile  above  the  Fall,  the  little  creek,  which 
has  its  rise  among  the  blue  hills  beyond,  suddenly  enters 
a  narrow  but  formidable  gateway  of  rock,  whose  huge 
buttresses  tower  a  hundred  feet  above  on  either  side,  sur 
mounted  with  a  bristling  growth  of  hemlock  and  pine. 
The  course  of  the  stream  having  been  comparatively  free 
from  obstruction  until  now,  winding  through  a  beauti 
fully  formed  valley  of  green  pastures  and  meadow  land, 
where  many  an  honest  tiller  of  the  soil  has  erected  his 
comfortable  home,  now  becomes  painfully  tortuous",  bro 
ken  with  sharp  angles,  and  obstructed  with  fragments  of 
rock  which  have  fallen  from  the  heights  above;  and  the 
water  which  has  idly  found  its  way  thus  far,  prepares  in 
earnest  for  the  desperate  encounter  which  seems  inevita 
ble,  and  plunges  into  the  shadows  of  the  gorge  as  if  curi 
ous  to  explore  its  mysteries,  and  strong  to  endure  the 
torment  which  it  may  inflict. 

Probably  there  is  no  Ravine  in  the  world  which  fur 
nishes  more  variety  in  so  short  a  space,  as  that  which 
extends  from  the  rocky  entrance  so  securely  guarded  by 
the  two  granite  Champions,  to  the  dizzy  verge  of  the 
grand  fall  a  few  hundred  yards  below.  Every  foot  of 
progress  discloses  some  new  and  singular  formation  of 
rock  entirely  dissimilar  from  any  preceding  it.  Cascades 
of  every  conceivable  form  and  height,  and  deep,  narrow 
channels  which  sometimes  conceal  in  their  rumbling 
depths  the  fiercely  running  water,  follow  each  other  in 
such  rapid  and  agreeable  succession,  that  the  spectator  is 
at  once  lost  in  wonder  and  delight.  Throughout  the 
entire  course,  a  safe  and  easy  foot  path  winds  along  be- 


LUCIFER  BALLS  AND  RAVINE.  61 

neath  the  overhanging  cliffs,  and  at  a  point  about  midway 
from  the  entrance  crosses  the  gulf,  thirty  feet  above  the 
water,  by  a  rustic  bridge,  from  which  a  grand  view  of 
the  Ravine  is  obtained,  both  up  and  down  the  stream. 

So  picturesque,  and  at  times  sublime,  is  the  scenery  on 
either  hand,  that  the  tourist,  as  he  descends,  sometimes 
forgets  that  he  has  not  yet  beheld  the  grand  object  of  his 
visit,  and  shudders  with  astonishment  when  at  length, 
upon  turning  an  abrupt  corner  of  the  cliff,  the  fearful 
gulf,  whose  rocky  pavement  checked  the  rash  leap  of 
"  Lucifer,"  stares  him  in  the  face ! 

"  The  roar  of  waters !  from  the  headlong  height 
Velino  cleaves  the  wave-worn  precipice ; 
The  fall  of  waters !  rapid  as  the  light 
The  flashing  mass  forms,  shaking  the  abyss ; 
The  hell  of  waters  !  where  they  howl  and  hiss, 
And  boil  in  endless  torture  ;  while  the  sweat 
Of  their  great  agony,  wrung  out  from  this 
Their  Phlegethon,  curls  round  the  rocks  of  jet 
That  gird  the  gulf  around,  in  pitiless  horror  set." 

Two  hundred  and  twenty  feet  beneath,  the  water,  al 
ready  recovered  from  the  concussion  of  the  fall,  is  seen 
dimly  through  the  mist-wreaths  to  flow  leisurely  along, 
and  disappear  in  the  shadow  of  green  foliage  beyond. 
One  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above,  are  buried  the  roots  of 
trees  which  crown  the  noble  brow  of  the  cliff,  and  thrust 
still  another  hundred  feet  into  the  sunlight  of  heaven, 
wave  the  top-most  boughs,  which  sway  fearlessly  over  an 
abyss  of  nearly  five  hundred  feet  in  depth ! 

After  the  first  thrill  of  admiration  inspired  by  this  un 
surpassed  scene  has  passed  away,  the  visitor  will,  without 
longer  delay,  avail  himself  of  the  stairway  that  has  been 
built  for  the  purpose,  and  descending  to  the  rocky  plat 
form  below,  follow  the  spiral  path  along  the  side  of  the 
precipice,  which  will^soon  conduct  him  to  the  bottom  of 
the  Ravine,  about  a  hundred  yards  below  the  Fall,  the 


62  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

dashing  music  of  which  is  constantly  heard  sweeping 
around  the  angles  of  the  cliff.  Now,  after  making  a  short 
turn  to  the  right,  a  few  steps  of  progress  discloses  the 
best  general  view  of  the  Fall,  and  is  the  point  where  the 
drawing  was  made  which  illustrates  this  sketch.  When 
the  afternoon  sun  in  summer  looks  down  over  the  west 
ern  cliif,  gilding  with  glory  the  extended  boughs  of  the 
old  hemlocks,  and  lights  up  the  sparkling  moss  and 
flashing  water  —  when  the  deep,  pure  blue  of  the  upper 
heaven  is  spread  in  holy  majesty  above,  and  no  sight  nor 
sound  of  human  passion  disturbs  the  dread,  yet  beautiful 
solemnity  of  the  scene  —  then  should  the  pilgrim  of 
Nature  seek  the  romantic  glen  of  Lucifer,  and  worship 
for  an  hour  at  her  majestic  shrine. 


BUTTERMILK  FALLS. 


These  falls  are  the  most  accessible  of  all  those  that 
surround  Ithaca,  with  the  exception  of  Fall  Creek,  and 
for  picturesque  beauty  are  unequaled. 

The  usual,  and,  in  fact,  the  only  route  by  which  they 
are  reached,  is  by  what  is  called  the  Newfield  road,  be 
ginning  at  the  foot  of  Cayuga  street,  and  running  through 
the  beautiful  valley  of  Newfield  to  the  town  of  that  name. 

The  road  is  good  either  for  riding  or  driving,  and  from 
its  gradual  ascent  presents  a  fine  view  of  Ithaca  and  the 
Lake. 

Shortly  after  leaving  town  the  road  passes  through  a 
singular  cut  in  the  hills,  that  is  continued  up  and  down 
many  hundred  yards,  and  forming  a  cut  or  grade  that  is 
very  conspicuous  from  the  village.  This  "Inclined 
Plane,"  as  it  is  called,  was  once  the  substitute  for  the 
seemingly  tedious  curves  and  switches  by  which  the 
present  rail  road  reaches  the  level  of  the  valley;  but 
several  serious  accidents  induced  the  directors  to  adopt 
the  longer  but  safer  method. 

The  ride  to  the  Falls  is  most  charming ;  the  rise  in  the 
road  is  slight,  and  the  hills  along  whose  base  it  runs 
shelter  it  from  the  winds  and  sun. 

Nearly  two  miles  from  town  the  road  passes  under  the 
track  of  the  rail  road,  and,  making  an  abrupt  turn,  brings 
the  tourist  face  to  face  with  the 
9 


66  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 


FIRST   FALL. 

The  hill,  before  unbroken,  is  here  cleft  by  a  mountain 
torrent,  that  comes  pouring  over  the  sharp  rocks  of  its 
bed  in  a  mass  of  thick,  frothy  foam,  that  evidently  sug 
gested  to  the  unaesthetic  and  domestic  countryman  the 
name  of 

BUTTERMILK  FALLS. 

The  view  is  indeed  superb ;  the  perpendicular  sides  of 
the  chasm  crowned  with  "  dark'ning  pines,"  forming  a  fit 
frame  for  the  falls  of  dazzling  purity,  the  ruins  of  the 
quaint  old  saw-mill  at  their  base,  and  above  the  first  fall, 
around  a  seeming  curve,  half  hidden  by  the  sombre 
forest,  seen  through  mossy  pines  and  hemlocks,  is  the 
second  fall,  crowning  the  first  with  a  chaplet  of  spotless 
white,  and  falling  silently  in  a  mass  of  feathery  foam. 

The  tourist  can  never  tire  of  standing  at  the  foot  of  the 
first  fall,  soothed  by  the  soft  whispers  of  the  foamy 
stream,  and  charmed  by  the  vivid  contrasts  of  color  in 
the  dull,  grey  ravine,  the  brilliant,  sunny  cascade,  and, 
over  all,  the  blue  of  the  sky. 

It  is  hard  to  convince  one  that  these  two  beautiful 
falls  are  but  the  beginning  of  a  series  of  cascades,  less  in 
size  but  equal  in  beauty,  and  that  the  ascent  is  practicable 
as  well  for  ladies  and  children  as  for  the  stronger  mem 
bers  of  the  party. 

THE   ASCENT. 

There  are  two  methods  of  reaching  the  level  of  the 
stream  above ;  one,  in  comparatively  dry  seasons,  by 
ascending  directly  the  bed  of  the  stream ;  and  the  other, 
when  that  is  overflowed,  by  the  west  bank. 

Either  of  these  two  routes  will  conduct  the  visitor  to 


BUTTERMILK  FALLS.  67 

the  summit  of  the  ravine,  and  both  are  quite  easy.  The 
one  by  the  bed  of  the  stream  is  most  used,  and  we  will 
suppose  that  the  one  taken,  with  an  occasional  reference 
to  the  other. 

The  bed  of  the  first  fall  is  so  inclined  that  it  presents  a 
series  of  small  steps  that  break  up  the  stream  into  a  mass 
of  foam,  and  afford  an  easy  method  of  ascent. 

Mounting  some  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  or  fifty 
feet,  we  reach  the  level  platform  at  the  top  of  the  first 
fall,  and  pausing  in  our  ascent  look  back. 

Standing  just  midway  between  the  two  falls,  at  the 
summit  of  the  first  and  the  foot  of  the  second,  we  look 
down  on  the  tossing,  boiling  waters,  torn  into  foamy 
fragments  by  the  pointed  rocks,  and  sliding  over,  step 
after  step,  until  it  reaches  the  quiet  level  of  the  valley. 

The  chasm  still  rises  above  us,  sombre  in  its  neutral 
tint,  here  and  there  marked  by  lichens  and  a  few  trailing 
vines  that  are  nourished  by  the  moisture  from  the  falls. 
The  Valley  of  Ithaca  lies  open  below  us  with  a  dreary  ex 
panse  of  marsh,  beyond  it  the  spires  of  the  churches 
glistening  in  the  sunlight ;  the  far  off  hills  with  irregular 
patches  of  green  or  ripening  grain,  in  vivid  verdancy  or 
matured  gold  !  The  deep  blue  lake  beyond  all,  hemmed 
in  by  the  hills,  tossing  and  breaking  into  snow  capped 
waves  or  glassy  in  its  perfect  quiet.  The  view  is  only 
equaled  by  the  one  from  the  summit  of  the  fall  above  us. 

We  clamber  on,  our  eye  arrested  every  moment  by 
some  new  beauty  in  the  eddying  waters  or  in  the  mossy 
woods  and  trailing  vines  that  festoon  the  trees. 

The  bed  of  the 

SECOND  FALL 

is  more  perpendicular  than  the  first,  and  we  find  the  steps 
a  little  wider  apart,  and  the  water  comes  down  more 


68  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

rapidly  and  full  of  noise,  murmuring  and  sighing  at 
leaving  the  cool,  calm  stream  above  to  be  tossed  and  torn 
by  succeeding  falls.  Reminding  one  of  Southey's  lines : 

"And  dashing  and  flashing,  and  splashing  and  clashing, 

And  BO  never  ending  but  always  descending, 
Sounds  and  motions  for  ever  and  ever  are  blending 
All  at  once  and  all  o'er  with  a  mighty  uproar, 
And  this  way  the  water  comes  down  at  Lodore." 

We  glance  from  the  noisy  stream  to  the  silent  woods 
with  their  profusion  of  velvety  moss  that  covers  in  its 
kindliness  the  decayed  trunks  of  the  fallen  trees,  as  the 
birds  buried  beneath  a  tomb  of  leaves  the  "  children  in 
the  wood." 

The  second  Fall  being  only  about  one  hundred  feet 
high,  we  soon  reach  the  second  plateau  and  our  climb 
ing  is  nearly  over. 

The  chasm  widens  out,  its  sides  seem  to  rise  still 
higher,  and  we  stand  in  an  immense  amphitheatre  and 
in  front  of  us  is  the  celebrated 

PULPIT  ROCK. 

From  the  summit  of  the  second  Fall,  one  has  a  still 
more  extensive  view  of  the  valley  and  the  lake  beyond, 
with  glimpses  through  the  trees  of  sunny  hills  and  quiet 
farms  of  the  village  beyond  the  woods,  silent  in  the  pur 
ple  haze  of  fall  or  Indian  summer,  or  seeming  to  tremble 
in  the  undulating  quivering  atmosphere  of  midsummer. 
With  a  lingering  glance  towards  the  hills  with  all  their 
grades  and  contrasts  of  color,  we  turn  to  the  remarkable 
scene  before  us. 

The  amphitheatre  of  which  we  have  spoken  as  formed 
by  the  widening  of  the  Ravine,  closes  gradually  around 
in  our  front,  and  is  there  broken  by  a  narrow  cleft 
extending  down  to  within  thirty  feet  of  the  level  on 
which  we  stand.  There  the  rocks  project  in  a  semicircular 


BUTTERMILK  FALLS.  71 

form,  making  the  most  perfect  "  pulpit"  or  •'  stand"  con 
ceivable.  Other  places  have  claimed  that  name  for  a 
paltry  rock  or  two  standing  on  each  other,  or  a  slight 
projection  from  the  face  of  a  cliff;  but  here  is  a  pulpit 
built  by  the  hands  of  the  Great  Orator,  and  uttering,  as 
loudly  as  temples  fashioned  by  hands,  His  truths. 

The  pulpit  proper  is  about  forty  feet  wide  and  thirty 
high,  gradually  rounding  out  at  the  sides  and  perpendi 
cular.  The  narrow  gorge  that  ends  in  it,  makes  a  sudden 
turn  some  yards  back,  and  leaves,  or  seems  to  leave,  a 
niche  in  the  rocks  a  yard  or  two  in  width,  in  which  one 
expects  to  see  the  occupant  of  that  rocky  pulpit  installed 
and  chaunting  to  the  sound  of  the  murmuring  waters 
the  praises  of  Him  of  whom  we  read, 

"  The  groves  were  God's  first  temples,  ere  man  learned 

To  hew  the  shaft  and  lay  the  Architrave, 

And  spread  the  roof  above  them,—  ere  he  framed 

The  lofty  vault  to  gather  and  roll  back 

The  sound  of  anthems  :  in  the  darkling  wood. 

Amidst  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down, 

And  offered  to  the  Mightiest,  solemn  thanks 

And  supplication. " 

The  sides  of  the  Ravine  frown  down  on  the  tourist 
and  shut  out  the  cheerful  sun,  and  all  is  silence  save  the 
trickling  of  the  little  stream  that  falls  over  the  pulpit 
rock. 

In  dry  weather  when  the  stream  is  very  low  the  rock 
is  almost  dry  and  can  be  surmounted  from  its  base ;  but 
the  better  way,  particularly  if  there  are  any  ladies  in  the 
party,  is  to  make  a  detour  in  the  woods,  (on  the  right 
hand  bank)  and  reach  the  stream  by  clambering  down 
its  banks  some  thirty  or  forty  rods  above  pulpit  rock  and 
then  walk  down  to  it.  Unless  the  rocks  be  wet  the  descent 
from  the  bank  is  easy  and  perfectly  safe.  We  wrill  sup 
pose  the  visitor  has  reached  in  this  or  the  other  way, 
Pulpit  rock. 


72  SCENERY  OP  ITHACA. 

In  front  is  the  huge  amphitheatre  and  the  sharp  line  of 
foam  that  marks  the  summit  of  the  second  cascade,  and 
we  have  a  faint  glimpse  of  the  distant  valley  bounded  by 
the  range  of  blue  hills. 

We  are  standing  some  thirty  feet  above  the  platform 
we  have  just  left  and  ten  or  fifteen  feet  in  front  or  project 
ing  from  the  ravine  to  which  the  pulpit  rock  is  attached. 
The  narrow  gorge  through  which  the  stream  winds,  turns 
so  abruptly  that  we  think  the  channel  must  be  lost  in 
some  charmed  fountain,  or  have  disappeared  in  some 
mysterious  subterranean  water  course.  Over  head  the 
sides  of  the  ravine  nearly  touch  and  the  hemlocks  mingle 
their  dark  branches.  We  walk  onward  and  find  that  the 
gorge  widens  as  it  comes  down  and  its  sides  are  hol 
lowed  out  in  strange  forms  by  the  action  of  the  water. 
The  channel  of  the  stream  is  but  a  few  feet  wide  and  has 
worn  a  cut  in  the  rocks  through  which  the  water  rushes, 
eddying  and  turning  in  a  thin  line.  Just  where  the  gorge 
turns  at  almost  right  angle  we  see  a  curious  effect  of  the 
action  of  the  water  on  the  rocks.  A  stone  is  whirled  over 
a  smooth  space  and  gradually  wears  a  hollow ;  the  process 
continues  for  years,  and  the  result  at  last  is  a  perfectly 
circular  well  worn  in  the  rock  here  twelve  feet  in  diameter 
and  some  nine  feet  deep,  forming  a  very  appropriate 
churn  from  whence  the  buttermilk  flows,  or  presenting  to 
a  more  imaginative  mind  a  Bath  in  which  the  attendant 
nymphs  of  the  woods  might  disport  during  the  long  hot 
hours  of  the  summer.  Just  beyond  this  bath  the  channel 
comes  falling  down  some  ten  or  twelve  feet,  and  above 
that  fall  is  another  curious  well  of  an  oblong  cresent 
shape.  Seyond  this  another  slight  fall,  then  a  half  well. 
The  gorge  is  still  narrow  and  in  the  summer  by  the  exclu 
sion  of  the  sun  deliciously  cool.  One  longs  to  rest  forever 
stretched  on  the  rocks,  and  lulled  by  the  soft  murmur  of 


BUTTERMILK  FALLS.  73 

the  water,  to  rest  and  drearn,  and  the  sweet  song  of  the 
"Mild  eyed,  melancholy  Lotus  sated" 

floats  through  one's  memory  with  its  cadence  soft  as  the 
plashing  waters. 

"  There  is  sweet  music  here  that  softer  falls 
Than  petals  from  blown  roses  on  the  grass, 
Or  night  dews  on  still  waters  between  walls 
Of  shadowy  granite,  in  a  gleaming  pass  ; 
Music  that  gentlier  on  the  spirit  lies 
Than  tired  eye-lids  upon  tired  eyes, 

Music  that  brings  sweet  sleep  down  from  the  blissful  skies, 
There  are  cool  mosses  deep, 
And  through  the  moss  the  ivies  creep, 
And  in  the  stream  the  long-leaved  flowers  weep 
And  from  the  craggy  edge  the  poppy  hangs  in  sleep, 

How  sweet  it  were  hearing  the  downward  stream 

With  half  shut  eyes,  ever  to  seem 
Falling  asleep  in  a  half  dream  ! 

To  muse  and  brood  and  live  again  in  memory 

With  those  old  faces  of  our  infancy 

Heaped  over  with  a  mound  of  grass, 

Two  handfuls  of  white  dust  shut  in  an  urn  of  brass  !" 

There  are  several  more  of  these  curious  walls  or  paths, 
and  the  series  ends  in  a  small  one  some  five  or  six  feet  in 
diameter,  at  the  foot  of  a  narrow  channel  cut  deep  in  the 
rock,  rising  some  ten  or  twelve  feet,  and  not  more  than 
two  wide,  through  which  the  whole  stream  is  forced,  and 
glides  with  intense  rapidity  in  a  smooth,  dark  coil  of 
water. 

The  tourist  can  continue  in  the  glen  from  pulpit  rock 
through  its  entire  length,  and  can  not  fail  to  admire  the 
smooth,  clear  rocks,  polished  and  worn  by  the  waters. 
Ascending  in  convenient  steps  the  banks,  some  twenty  or 
thirty  feet  high,  composed  of  horizontal  strata  of  rocks 
covered  with  lichens,  brown,  white  and  every  shade  of 
grey,  fringed  with  trailing  vines  and  curious  vivid  moss. 

From  the  narrow  channel  or  flume  just  mentioned, 
glancing  up  the  stream  a  most  beautiful  view  is  presented. 
The  stream  flows  on  between  straight,  narrow  banks, 
10 


74  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

arched  over  by  trees,  forming  a  shady  vista,  and  one 
above  the  other  ;  rising  higher  in  the  distance,  are  four 
well  defined  cascades,  the  water  falling  in  sheets  of  foam 
and  contrasting  strongly  with  the  dark  green  of  the 
trees  and  the  neutral  tint  of  the  banks.  These  cascades 
are,  respectively,  ten,  twenty,  ten  and  twelve  feet  high. 
We  can  not  dwell  on  this  beautiful  view ;  the  cascades 
rising  one  above  the  other  with  a  gleam  of  sunlight  some 
times  falling  through  the  trees  and  reflecting  back  in 
dazzling  rays  the  soft  sound  of  the  water ;  the  lichened 
bank  and  moss  grown  trees  combine  to  form  a  scene  that, 
for  picturesque  beauty,  is  seldom  equaled  in  this  country. 

When  we  reach  the  fourth  fall  of  the  series  just  men 
tioned,  the  character  of  the  scenery  changes,  and  the 
banks,  losing  their  rocky  steepness,  slope  gradually  down 
to  the  water's  edge.  The  stream  glides  along  with  but 
few  interruptions  of  cascades  in  its  easy  descent,  and  the 
trees  are  reflected  back  in  its  smooth  surface  in  all  their 
perfection  of  form  and  color.  We  have  gone  a  little 
more  than  one  half  of  the  whole  extent  of  the  stream, 
and  our  attention  being  continually  attracted  by  some 
new  beauty  in  the  stream  or  wood,  we  can  hardly  believe 
we  have  gone  so  far. 

The  stream  grows  more  and  more  brook-like,  and 
murmuring  over  its  rocky  bed  seems  gleefully  singing : 

"  I  chatter  over  stony  ways 

In  little  sharps  and  trebles, 
I  bubble  into  eddying  bays, 

I  babble  on  the  pebbles. 

I  wind  about,  and  in  and  out, 

With  here  a  blossom  sailing, 
And  here  and  there  a  lusty  trout, 

And  here  and  there  a  grayling. 

And  here  and  there  a  foamy  flake 

Upon  me  as  I  travel, 
With  many  a  silv'ry  water  break, 

Above  the  golden  gravel." 


BUTTERMILK  FALLS.  75 

We  pause  and  notice  the  exquisite  ferns  that  fringe 
the  rocks,  and  spring  up  in  tufts  on  the  fallen  trees  that 
the  moss  has  nearly  covered.  The  woods  are  evergreen, 
and  we  have  visited  them  in  winter  when  only  the  silent, 
ice-bound  stream  altered  the  scene  from  that  of  the  past 
summer ;  the  woods  were  the  same,  the  moss  as  profuse 
and  soft.  The  scene  is  one  of  intense  quiet  and  peace. 

"  The  mossy  rocks  themselves, 

And  the  old  and  ponderous  trunks  of  prostrate  trees 
That  lead  from  knoll  to  knoll  a  causeway  wide, 
Or  bridge  the  sunken  brook,  and  their  dark  roots, 
With  all  their  earth  upon  them,  twisting  high, 
Breathe  fixed  tranquility.    The  rivulet 
Sends  forth  glad  sounds,  and,  tripping  o'er  its  bed 
Of  pebbly  sands  or  leaping  down  the  rocks, 
Seems  with  continuous  laughter  to  rejoice 
In  its  own  being." 

The  brook-like  stream  has  been  quiet  too  long,  and, 
lest  its  character  should  be  lost,  makes  an  abrupt  bend 
and  presents  a  view  only  second  to  the  one  that  meets 
us  on  surmounting  the  second  grand  fall.  The  banks 
have  gradually  risen  until  they  again  tower  a  hundred  or 
two  feet  above  us,  their  sides  bare  and  sombre  and  their 
bases  nearly  meeting ;  the  stream  has  widened  to  some 
fifty  feet,  and  falls  in  a  cascade  of  rare  beauty  some 
twenty  or  thirty  feet,  its  width  seemingly  lessened  by  the 
projecting  banks,  and  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  stream 
widening  out,  behind  their  dark  edges.  Just  above  the 
cascade,  and  in  towards  the  bank,  in  bold  relief  against 
the  dark  rocks,  rises  a  mass  of  stone,  a  pillar  fringed  with 
moss  and  ferns,  rearing  itself  straight  up  fifty  feet  and 
tapering  to  a  point  crowned  with  vines  and  flowers. 

This  extraordinary  rock  is  called  indiscriminately 
Steeple  Rock,  Chimney  Rock,  and 


76  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 


MONUMENT  ROCK. 

The  latter  name  seems  to  us  the  most  appropriate,  for 
looking  up  to  it  from  the  lower  glen,  it  stands  there 
solitary  in  its  beauty  and  symmetry :  like  a  funeral  obe 
lisk  pointing  its  finger  to  the  sky,  a  fit  monument  and 
reminder  of  the  generations  who  have  passed  away, 
while  its  only  change  has  been  a  little  more  added  ferns 
and  moss,  and  a  little  wearing  away  by  the  water ! 

Climbing  cautiously  around  the  right  hand  bank  of  the 
stream  on  a  ledge  seemingly  cut  out  for  the  convenience 
of  the  tourist,  and  rounding  the  projecting  bank,  we 
come  in  full  view  of  the  cascade,  above  which  rises  the 
Monument  Rock.  Part  of  the  cascade  falls  through  a 
cleft  in  the  rock,  and  the  crushed  water  rising  in  a  cloud 
of  spray  reflects  back  the  sunlight  in  a  beautiful  rainbow, 
the  dark  rock  rises  near  it  and  adds  another  charm  to  a 
scene  picturesque  beyond  description. 

Standing  on  the  right-hand  bank  and  glancing  across 
the  stream,  the  tourist  will  be  struck  by  the  singular 
carcase  appearance  of  the  bank,  the  water  has  worn  away 
the  softer  more  friable  part  of  the  bank,  leaving  a  sharp 
point  that  hems  in  the  stream.  We  strongly  advise  the 
visitor  to  climb  the  bank  and  reach  the  projection  that 
corresponds  with  the  one  just  noticed,  he  will  then  be 
standing  above  Monument  Rock  with  its  ferns  and  lich 
ens,  its  vines  and  flowers.  It  rises,  measured  from  the 
stream,  fifty  feet  or  more ;  the  strata  of  rock  that  com 
pose  it,  project  over  each  other  so  as  to  form  a  circular 
pathway  to  its  summit,  which  has  been  reached  by 
expert  climbers. 

With  a  lingering  glance  back  at  the  wonderful  rock 
we  continue  our  onward  course.  There  remains  but 
little  to  mention  now,  the  stream  winds  through  narrow 


BUTTERMILK  FALLS.  77 

rocky  banks,  the  one  side  steep,  grey,  ragged  and  sombre 
in  color ;  the  other  sloping  and  wooded.  There  is  but 
one  cascade  of  any  size  aboye  Monument  Rock.  The 
banks  on  the  north  side  lower  a  little,  and  before  us  are 
the  ruins  of  an  old  saw  mill  carried  away  in  a  recent 
freshet,  and  a  rude  bridge  crossing  the  stream,  which 
marks  the  end  of  Buttermilk  Ravine. 

Beyond  this  point  the  stream  winds  through  green 
fields  and  gentle  slopes,  and  is  lost  in  the  hills  further 
south. 

A  road  to  Ithaca  crosses  the  stream  on  the  bridge 
mentioned  above,  and  the  walk  from  this  point  to  town, 
affords  one  of  the  finest  views  of  Ithaca  and  the  lake 
that  can  be  obtained. 

Parties  visiting  the  Falls  can  drive  in  their  carriages 
to  the  first  Fall,  and  have  the  carriage  driven  around  to 
the  upper  bridge  and  await  them  there. 

Three  hours  can  be  easily  and  pleasantly  passed  in  the 
Ravine,  and  the  distance  from  the  bridge  to  town  by 
the  upper  road  is  not  quite  three  miles,  a  delightful  walk 
in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  during  the  sunsets  for  which 
Ithaca  is  so  famous. 

NOTE.— We  have  supposed  the  tourist  to  visit  the  Falls  during 
summer  or  fall ;  but  we  have  found  them  accessible  and  beautiful 
beyond  description  even  in  winter,  by  keeping  on  the  south  or  right- 
hand  bank,  and  not  descending  into  the  Ravine.  The  ice  bound 
stream,  the  motionless  cascades,  fixed  silent  in  all  beautiful  forms, 
the  banks  hung  with  immense  icicles,  and  stranger  than  all,  the 
remarkable  vernal  appearance  of  the  woods,  render  such  a  visit  well 
worth  the  increased  trouble. 


LICK  BROOK. 


Where  is  Lick  Brook  ?  How  do  you  go  to  Lick  Brook  ? 
Who  discovered  Lick  Brook  ?  These  were  the  questions 
that  were  frequently  asked  in  the  summer  of  the  Year 
of  Grace,  1864.  It  caine  out  conversationally,  that  a 
few  people  had  been  there,  in  the  early  summer  of  that 
year.  Upon  being  questioned, —  It  was  a  "  Wonderful 
place."  "  It  was  Beautiful."  It  was  a  "  Fearful  place." 
"  You  must  go  there."  "  Don't  think  of  going."  "  You 
never  can  get  there.' '  "  Do  go  by  all  means."  These,  and 
similar,  were  the  answers.  They  were  very  indefinite,  but 
very  well  calculated  to  heighten  the  questioner's  curiosity. 

A  party  started  one  warm  summer  morning,  to  go  to 
Lick  Brook.  They  were  provided  with  baskets  and  a 


LICK  BROOK.  81 

bottle,  and  it  being  ascertained  also,  that  one  of  the  party 
carried  a  pistol,  it  was  declared  safe  to  proceed. 

They  started  on  the  road,  known  in  the  vernacular  asr 
"  the  way  to  Buttermilk  Falls."  Do  you  know  the  way  ? 
No  !  You  have  been  there  ?  No ! !  Has  any  one  of  us 
been  there?  No!!! 

Following  the  highway,  up  the  valley,  for  perhaps 
three  quarters  of  an  hour,  and  meeting  with  no  greater 
danger  than  a  passing  rail  road  train,  (ladies  are  never 
alarmed  at  sight  of  a  train  of  cars ;  oh  no ! )  they  were 
suddenly  and  with  great  presence  of  mind,  stopped  in 
the  vicinity  of  a  farm  house,  and  one  of  the  number 
dispatched  to  scour  the  country,  and  collect  information. 
The  result  was,  to  open  the  nearest  and  most  convenient 
gate,  and  turn  into  a  lane.  It  does  not  seem  to  be  the 
custom  of  the  country  to  ask  permission  of  a  man  to 
drive  into  his  fields  and  lanes  ;  but  if  the  astonished  pro 
prietor  makes  his  appearance,  to  shout,  "  Is  this  the  way 
to  Lick  Brook?"  and  apply  the  whip.  They  went  on. 
The  stream  ran  over  the  road,  and  the  road  ran  through 
the  stream.  They  clasped  their  hands,  looked  despair 
ingly  in  one  another's  faces,  and  safely  forded;  found 
themselves  in  a  marsh,  in  a  thicket,  and  then  in  the  stream. 
They  flanked  a  tree,  and  went  ingloriously  around  a 
stump,  and  over  a  log,  and  crossed  the  stream  several 
times  more,  and  being  now  accustomed  to  danger,  never 
discovered  that  the  horses  were  running  away.  One  was 
speculating  on  the  chances  of  petroleum,  the  indications 
being  an  oily,  green  substance  on  the  little  pools  of  water ; 
and  another,  on  the  probable  value  of  the  crops  raised, 
and  the  fine  opportunity  for  investing  in  real  estate,  and 
water  privileges.  The  horses  were  sensible  animals,  how 
ever,  and  finally  yielded  to  a  judicious  amount  of  bit,  and 
brake,  and  rather  forcible  persuasion.  The  road,  what 
11 


82  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

there  was  of  it,  now  giving  signs  of  discontinuing,  they 
hailed  a  landsman,  an  "original  settler"  probably,  for  he 
was  felling  a  tree,  were  advised  to  stop  soon  and  try  a 
different  kind  of  locomotion.  The  horses  were  therefore 
tied  up,  and  the  baskets  and  valuables  left  to  their  keep 
ing,  a  sarcastic  individual  quoting  an  Arab  proverb. 
"  They  are  safe  ;  give  yourself  no  uneasiness,  O  Effendi ; 
there  is  not  a  Christian  in  the  country." 

They  next  climbed  a  fence.  There  are  things  more 
easy  of  accomplishment  than  to  get  a  large  party  over  a 
fence,  and  while  they  were  engaged  in  falling  over  it, 
getting  caught  in  it,  anathemizing  it,  one  of  the  party, 
(who  carried  a  fishing  pole  and  a  private  bottle),  was 
accidentally  lost.  All  efforts  to  find  him  were  vain, 
and  the  party  were  reluctantly  compelled  to  go  on 
without  him.  They  were  now  breast  high  in  a  this 
tle  patch.  There  is  a  law  in  the  statute  book  against 
thistles.  There  was,  and  may  be  now,  a  law  in  Connec 
ticut,  that  "  a  man  should  not  kiss  his  wife  on  ye  Sabbath 
day."  It  is  very  easy  to  make  laws,  but  how  about 
enforcing  them  ? 

Struggling  through  the  thistles,  taking  care  to  keep 
within  hailing  of  each  other  (otherwise  there  might  have 
been  more  lost),  they  came  upon  the  rocky  bed  of  a 
small  stream,  and  wTent  stumbling  on,  over  large  stones 
and  small  stones,  and  going  around  stones,  and,  in  fact, 
it  was  all  stones.  And  here  a  great  diversity  of  opinion 
arose,  was  this  small  stream  the  Brook  ?  or  should  they 
follow  the  larger  stream  ? 

They  followed  the  smaller,  now  shut  in  by  high  banks, 
and  with  the  mental  certainty  on  the  part  of  at  least  one 
that  they  were  all  wrong,  were  going  wrong,  and  must 
be  wrong,  they  turned  a  projecting  cliff,  and  lo !  "  The 
First  Fall  of  Lick  Brook."  The  larger  stream  was  after- 


LICK  BROOK.  83 

ward,  by  consulting  "  the  oldest  inhabitant,"  found  to  be 
"  the  Inlet "  —  the  Inlet  of  Cayuga  Lake. 

Exclamations  of  surprise  and  rapture  followed.  "  Beau 
tiful,"  "Lovely,"  "Is  this  Lick  Brook?"  "How  glad  I 
am  I  came,"  "  What  a  nice  place  for  dinner."  And  it 
was  lovely,  a  circular  basin  shut  in  by  wall  of  rock,  a 
little  water  falling  in  cool  spray  over  green  and  mossy 
rocks  straight  down  to  the  bed  of  the  stream  below. 
The  most  venturesome  knew  at  a  glance  they  could  go 
no  further.  The  "Fall"  was  unscalable,  insurmount 
able,  and  they  all  sat  down  on  the  broad,  cool,  rocky 
floor,  to  wonder  and  admire. 

When  the  stream  is  high  (as  afterward  seen),  and  pours 
over  a  flood  of  spray,  falling  like  a  veil,  it  would  seem  that 
the  nymph  of  the  stream  was  sporting  in  bridal  robes. 

"Another  Fall?"  "The  Upper  Fall?"  "How  can 
you  get  there  ?"  And  wondering  glances  at  the  the  walls 
of  rock  attested  the  consternation  of  the  party. 

Eested  and  refreshed  (and  regaled  with  fragrant  birch, 
by  one  of  the  junior  members,  who  had  not  as  yet  left 
his  youth  far  back),  they  retraced  their  footsteps,  and 
stood  at  the  foot  of  a  mighty  Hill.  A  Hill  ?  surely  a  mis 
take.  Not  long  since  a  little  girl  of  twelve  summers,  in 
coming  from  the  opposite  direction,  exclaimed,  "  Auntie, 
must  wre  go  over  that  mountain  before  we  get  to  Ithaca  ?  " 
And  this  was  the  mountain.  Formidable  it  looked ;  but 
with  brave  hearts,  and  resolute  looks,  and  long  drawn 
breaths,  they  essayed  to  climb.  The  strongest  and  most 
determined  went  ahead,  and  with  the  exhortation  to 
"  keep  in  file,"  and  "  make  a  path  as  you  go,"  they  went 
"  onward  and  upward."  Short  skirts  and  no  encum 
brances,  and  soon  the  bushes  were  loaded  with  cloaks, 
capes,  mantles,  and  parasols  and  all  the  extras.  It  was 
hard  work;  but  a  hand  occasionally  held  out  from 


84  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

before,  and  an  energetic  push  from  behind,  encouraged 
the  lingering  and  laggard.  One  after  another  they 
dropped  down  to  rest  in  an  open  space  near  the  bank, 
and  to  take  note  of  each  other's  haps  and  mishaps. 
Breath  taken,  and  a  chance  to  look  about,  and  down, 
right  down  below  was  the  Fall  they  had  left. 

Upward  and  onward,  an  occasional  pause  for  breath, 
a  little  time  to  rest,  to  grumble,  to  remark  on  the  weari 
ness  of  pleasure  seeking,  to  wish  impossibilities.  The 
invalid  gave  signs  of  despair,  could  go  no  further ;  but 
encouraged  and  persuaded,  perhaps  threatened  also  (for 
there  was  one  who  carried  arms),  still  struggled  on,  and 
the  top  of  the  mountain  was  gained. 

Here  one  gave  out  entirely,  and  becoming  deaf  to  en 
treaties  and  remonstrances,  the  ties  of  friendship  and 
family  affection,  was  reluctantly  abandoned  to  his  fate. 
The  invalid  still  kept  on.  "  O !  you  leader  of  forlorn  hope, 
what  do  you  deserve  for  having  inveigled  me  into  this  ?  " 

Downward  now,  down  to  the  bed  of  the  stream.  It  is 
easier  to  go  down  than  up.  You  have  only  to  shut  your 
eyes  and  fall  as  far  as  possible,  it  will  not  be  very  far,  for 
the  low  branches  of  the  trees  shut  in  on  every  side  and 
arrest  your  progress.  The  invalid  groaned ;  but  looking 
down  saw  that  one  enterprising  individual  had  already 
gained  the  desired  haven,  and  was  bathing  his  brow  in 
the  the  cool  water.  The  effect  was  electric.  Water 
treatment  was  that  invalid's  hobby,  and  she  paused  not 
again,  until  she  was  herself  under  treatment. 

In  the  bed  of  the  stream  again.  Shut  in  by  walls  of 
solid  rock  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  by  a  steep  wooded 
bank ;  woe  to  one  who  should  attempt  to  climb  it,  The 
cool  water  murmured  with  a  pleasant  sound,  and  over 
head  was  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  sky,  and  the  pleasant 
outer  day. 


LICK  BROOK.  85 

Following  up  the  ravine,  very  pleasant  and  easy,  and 
stooping  under  the  trunk  of  a  gigantic  tree,  that  extended 
from  bank  to  bank,  at  the  right  is  a  deep  chasm,  tunnelled 
out  by  winter  frosts  and  melting  snow,  and  summer 
showers  dripping  through  the  "jointed  structure  of  the 
rock." 

Still  onward,  forgetting  fatigue  and  all  the  other  ills  of 
life  in  wondrous  admiration,  and  suddenly  —  "  the  Great 
Fall."  Words  are  powerless.  One  by  one  they  sink 
down  on  the  firm  rock  floor,  to  gaze  and  wonder  at  the 
"  Beautiful  Fall,"  "  Beautiful  Fall." 

"  A  thing  of  beaut y  is  a  joy  forever." 

Falling  straight  down  from  the  upper  air,  and  the 
sunlight  and  the  world  above,  broken  only  by  the  slight 
projection  of  a  strata  of  harder  rock  near  the  base,  the 
bright  mountain  stream  comes  down,  down,  broken  into 
white  mist  and  spray,  robes  for  a  hundred  water-nymphs. 

"  Noon  glows  on  the  Lake, 
Noon  glows  on  the  fell, 
Awake  thee,  awake, 
White  Maid  of  Avenel." 

How  high  ?  Ah !  none  can  climb  that  steep,  straight 
cliff.  Rock  bound  and  enchanted,  —  was  that  the  shadow 
of  Medusa's  head? 

Taghkanic  Fall  is  215  feet  high,  said  one.  215  feet, 
how  high  is  this  ?  If  Taghkanic  Fall  is  215  feet,  emphati 
cally  remarked  the  man  who  carried  the  pistol,  this  is,  this 
is  250.  Proven  to  a  demonstration,  carried  by  acclamation. 
The  act  to  take  effect  immediately. 

Our  geologist  was  not  there,  or  we  should  have  known 
the  kind  of  rock,  how  old,  how  far  back  in  the  "  Palaeozoic 
Age,"  how  much  older  than  the  coal,  and  how  much 
younger  than  the  trilobites  were  its  fossils.  That  is,  if  a 


86  SCENERY  or  ITHACA. 

geologist  ever  gives  a  direct  answer  to  a  direct  question. 
The  State  geology  says  it  belongs  to  the  "  Chenmng 
Group."  Very  definite  that;  and  the  State  geology  is 
unquestionable  authority,  and  also  says  that  it  abounds  in 
"  Felicities."  This  party,  at  least,  had  no  reason  to  dis 
believe  it.  The  invalid  recovered,  and  rejoiced  again  in 
health  and  good  spirits. 

Is  it  possible  that  this  stream  flows  from  that  fountain, 
to  find  which  Ponce  de  Leon  and  his  grand  cavaliers 
sacrificed  their  lives  ? 

The  friend  left  on  the  mountain  was  remembered  and 
regretted,  but  one  recalling  that  he  loved  Shakspeare  well, 
and  knew  by  heart  every  "  soliloquy,"  trusted  that  in 
that  old  friend  he  would  find  good  company. 

Slowly,  and  with  long,  lingering  glances,  they  bade 
good-bye  to  the  "  Beautiful  Fall,"  went  down  the  glen, 
drank  from  the  deep  pool,  and  climbed  again  to  upper 
air.  They  found  their  friend,  not  yet  fossilized,  gathered 
up  the  scattered  garments  thrown  by  in  the  toilsome 
ascent,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  serious  misfortune 
that  befel  one  of  the  number  (Mem.,  never  wear  paper 
collars  to  Lick  Brook),  reached  in  safety  and  excellent 
spirits  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  They  were  here  rej  oined 
by  the  "  lost  one,"  in  a  state  of  great  indignation.  He 
had  not  found  trout,  nor  a  pretty  girl,  nor  "  any  peaches," 
nor  any  other  good  thing ;  had  been  talked  back  to  by  a 
saucy  boy,  and  was  excessively  indignant  at  having  been 
deserted. 

Luncheon.  Ah,  how  good  it  was.  The  chickens  and 
the  ripe  tomatoes,  and  the  bottle,  and  the  pears,  and  all 
the  other  good  things,  and  —  away. 

Beautiful  waterfalls,  beautiful  clay,  kind  friends  and 
true,  they  will  be  a  pleasant  memory  forever. 

It  has  been  ascertained  that  when  the  present  elderly 


LICK  BROOK.  87 

people  of  the  burg  of  Ithaca  were  young,  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  visiting  Lick  Brook,  but  not  bringing  up 
their  children  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  their  fathers 
(that  is  not  the  custom  now),  it  was  forgotten.  Having 
been  recently  rediscovered,  they  have  recalled  their  lost 
youth,  its  pleasures  and  pic-nics,  and  also  the  memory 
of  Lick  Brook. 


SIX  MILE  CREEK. 


EEK  one  of  the  golden  Octo 
ber  or  Indian  summer  days,  * 
and  visit  Six  Mile  Creek, 
prepared  to  make  a  day  of 
it.  Go  not  when  the  water 
is  high,  for  then  the  inter 
est  will  not  be  heightened, 
while  the  obstacles  will  be 
greatly  increased.  Walk  or 
drive  along  the  south  side 
road,  till  you  come  nearly 
to  the  Bridge,  then  descend 
into  the  Ravine.  On  round 
ing  the  hill  you  find  your 
self  in  an  amphitheatre  of  vast  extent  and  of  a  wild  and 
desolate  beauty ;  at  the  farther  end  a  cataract  foams  down 
a  pile  of  irregular  rocks.  This  charming  little  Fall  about 
fifty  feet  high  is  usually  called  "  The  Well  Fall,"  in  allusion 
to  a  phenomenon  usual  in  these  streams  where  the  action 
of  the  water  has  gradually  worn  away  deep  round  holes  in 
the  rock.  But  as  there  is  little  or  no  evidence  of  these  at 
this  spot,  whereas  there  is  the  largest  and  most  distinctly 
defined  well  in  all  this  region  at  the  Upper  Falls,  soon  to 
be  described,  the  name  must  have  been  erroneously  from 
the  latter  to  the  former,  and  as  this  would  leave  the  pres 
ent  Fall  without  a  cognomen,  wre  take  the  liberty^of 


12 


Six  MILE  CREEK.  91 

applying  to  it  that  of  a  citizen,  and  call  it  the  Cornell 
Fall.  That  name  already  become  world  wide  in  its 
fame,  and  destined  to  an  immortal  renown  in  the  records 
of  philanthropy  and  education,  it  is  the  delight  of  every 
Ithacan  to  inscribe  alike  on  monuments  of  nature  and  of 
art.  In  time  of  low  water  the  side  of  the  Fall  furnishes 
a  convenient  staircase  for  ascending  from  the  Glen ;  at 
other  times  one  is  fain  to  retrace  his  steps.  In  either 
case  you  return  to  the  point  where  you  left  the  road 
before,  and  scale  the  abrupt  and  partly  excavated  sand 
bank  which  overhangs  it  on  the  other  side:  The  narrow 
tongue  of  land  on  which  you  now  stand  with  the  deep 
gully  on  one  hand,  and  the  creek  sounding  far  down  on 
the  other,  was  once  a  sort  of  loop  or  knot  hole  in  the 
stream,  the  gully  aforesaid  being  evidently  an  obsolete 
channel.  Looking  back  you  command  a  lengthwise  view 
of  the  wide  and  desolate  glen,  through  which  from  side 
to  side  meanders  the  Six  Mile  Creek,  and  through  the 
opening  at  the  further  end  you  have  a  picturesque  glimpse 
of  a  portion  of  the  village  with  the  gleaming  lake  and 
the  cultivated  hills  beyond. 

Follow  the  edge  of  the  Ravine  on  your  left,  and  you 
are  straightway  in  a  scene  of  great  seclusion,  only  marred 
by  the  ravages  of  the  unromantic  axe.  In  these  days,  what 
ever  might  have  been  true  in  ancient  times,  a  man  is  not 
"  famous  according  as  he  lifteth  up  axes  upon  the  thick 
trees."  To  wander  close  by  the  stream  must  formerly 
have  been  a  very  delightful  thing,  but  it  is  better  now  to 
keep  within  the  remnant  of  woods  that  the  all  devouring 
saw  mill  has  condescended  to  leave.  The  high  bank, 
however,  affords  some  interesting  views  of  the  glen  be 
neath,  as  well  as  many  a  pleasant  spot  to  while  away  a 
half  hour  luxuriously  with  a  book,  such  as  shall  inspire, 
but  not  absorb  your  meditation.  The  glen  is  very  wide 


92  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

in  places  on  account  of  the  windings  of  the  stream,  which 
will  occupy  a  mile  in  its  twistings  and  doublings  in  order 
to  proceed  a  quarter  of  that  distance,  a  striking  emblem, 
in  all  but  its  gracefulness  and  beauty,  of  the  career  of 
many  a  tortuous  trafficker  in  the  interest  of  his  country 
and  the  votes  of  his  fellow  citizens ! 

Following  the  wood  road  which  opens  before  your 
feet,  you  presently  find  yourself  in  a  labyrinth  of  wild 
and  lonely  dells,  each  of  which  attracts  your  romantic 
spirit.  But  resisting  temptation  (only  perhaps  turning 
aside  to  scale  the  Round  Top  on  your  right  for  the 
view),  you  descend  to  the  bank  of  the  Creek,  just  where 
it  brawls  among  the  rocks  at  that  stage  of  its  career 
which  may  be  called  the  Rapids.  The  woods  hereabouts 
are  shady  and  delightful,  and  slope  gently  to  the  water's 
edge.  A  little  farther  on  they  expand  into  a  level  field 
bordered  on  three  sides  by  the  Creek.  Here  is  one  of 
the  favorite  haunts  of  the  writer,  and  a  grand  spot  for  a 
picnic,  or  at  least  a  halt.  If  you  would  drink  in  the  true 
aroma  of  woods  and  water-brooks,  sit  down  somewhere 
on  one  of  these  old  logs  and  listen,  as  the  season  may  be, 
to  the  singing  of  birds  or  the  chirping  of  squirrels  (I 
never  saw,  by  the  way,  so  many  of  these  last  most  lova 
ble  of  all  wild  things,  as  on  this  Creek.  I  am  almost 
tempted  at  times  to  christen  it  anew  with  the  equally 
descriptive  and  much  more  romantic  name  of  Squirrel 
River).  The  water  chords  are  so  exquisitely  stretched 
over  the  pebbly  bottom,  that  their  music  seems  to  me 
the  softest  and  most  tuneful  I  ever  heard.  And  the  old 
trees  stand  around  in  such  graceful  attitudes  and  with 
such  sunny  distances  between,  that  there  is  nothing  of 
gloom,  though  the  whole  scene  is  so  primitive  and  wild, 
and  apparently  so  remote  from  human  habitation. 

On  leaving  this  pleasant  Hall  of  Meditation,  a  variety 


Six  MILE  CREEK.  93 

will  be  added  to  the  excursion  by  crossing  the  stream  on 
a  bridge  of  stepping  stones,  already  there,  or  newly 
constructed  by  your  own  engineering  skill.  This  cross 
ing  can  be  more  easily  effected,  however,  by  making  the 
detour  of  the  hill  and  coming  down  to  the  stream  again, 
where  two  giant  trees  offer  their  backs  as  substantial 
bridges.  You  continue  your  woodland  walk,  the  stream 
beside  you  now  expanding  into  a  great  wridth  and  trick 
ling  through  a  hundred  stony  paths,  and  now  narrow, 
and  deep,  and  still.  The  opposite  side  presents  every 
variety  of  appearance,  rocky  wall,  and  shady  bank,  and 
towering  wooded  height.  As  you  approach  the  narrow 
Pass,  you  will  be  obliged  to  descend  to  the  edge  of  the 
water,  where  you  will  find  a  stone  sidewalk,  more  or  less 
eligible  according  to  your  rotundity  and  agil?ty.  The 
Pass  is  a  narrow  defile  between  the  rocks,  through  which 
the  water  pours  over  a  pavement  of  solid  stone.  In 
these  clear  shallows  the  minnows  are  darting  to  and  fro, 
and  the  amber,  brown,  gray,  yellow,  and  green  of  the 
rocks  beneath,  delight  the  color-loving  eye.  Altogether 
this  spot  is  a  charming  feature  of  the  varied  and  quiet 
scenery  of  Six  Mile  Creek. 

And  now  on  emerging  from  this  cool  and  shady  Pass, 
do  not  be  discouraged  at  the  axe-desolated  and  sun- 
stricken  appearance  of  the  scene,  for,  alas !  uncultured 
cultivation  has  been  here  with  a  vandal  hand. 

"  Nor  "bate  a  jot 

Of  heart  or  hope,  but  still  bear  up  and  steer 
Eight  onward." 

And  you  will  yet  be  rewarded  by  the  best  and  crown 
ing  part  of  your  excursion.  To  my  taste,  these  reaches 
of  the  uninteresting,  contribute  to  the  enjoyment  of  this 
Creek.  In  Buttermilk  or  Enfield  there  is  one  continuous 
vision  of  beauty ;  but  here  the  attractions  are  so  dis- 


94  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

severed  the  one  from  the  other,  as  to  unfold  before  you 
like  the  successive  scenes  of  a  play,  and  you  enter  upon 
each  with  a  new  relish. 

Now  it  will  be  well  for  the  youthful  David  of  adven 
ture  to  choose  five  smooth  stones  of  the  brook,  for  a 
causeway  over  the  same,  if  he  would  slay  several  Goliath- 
like  difficulties  in  his  path,  as  well  as  materially  shorten 
the  distance  across  this  open  space.  The  left  side  of  the 
Creek  now  becomes,  in  fact,  quite  impracticable. 

The  woods  and  hills  again  rise  about  you,  and  you  go 
on  your  way  rejoicing  under  the  shade  of  oaks,  cedars 
and  all  manner  of  trees.  Across  your  path  a  bright  cas 
cade  comes  skipping  like  a  mountain  nymph  from  the 
hills  above.  You  thread  your  way,  now  on  a  grassy 
bank,  and  now,  on  the  pebbly  bottom  of  the  stream.  Af 
ter  two  o'clock  of  the  Indian  Summer  day,  you  will  see 
sunset  a  dozen  times  behind  the  hills  above  you. 

The  scene  suddenly  and  completely  changes  as  you 
round  a  corner,  and  discover  a  fall  fifty  feet  in  height  and 
of  the  most  curious  description.  It  is  situated  in  a  se 
cluded  nook  that  seems  expressly  fitted  up  for  it.  This 
is  the  genuine  Well  Falls,  as  you  may  judge  by  the 
deep  and  circular  cistern  just  before  you,  into  which  a 
large  portion  of  the  stream  pours  itself.  No  graver's 
hand  could  have  hollowed  and  smoothed  this  wonder  of 
nature  more  deftly  than  the  "  continual  dropping "  of 
water  through  countless  years.  The  remainder  of  the 
stream  has  polished  the  rocks,  over  which  it  passes  in  a 
thin  and  foamy  sheet,  as  smooth  as  marble.  The  color 
of  the  rocks  is  a  deep  rich  brown,  varied  by  bright  green 
mosses  that  cling  to  it  under  the  water  so  closely  as  to 
seem  like  particles  of  the  stone  itself. 

Climbing  up  the  stone  staircase  beside  the  Fall,  you 
find  yourself  in  a  miniature  Enfield  Ravine,  or  rather  a 
Lucifer,  junior. 


Six  MILE  CREEK.  95 

The  stream  narrows  into  a  flume-like  channel  of  solid 
stone,  similar  to  what,  I  believe,  is  called  "  Lucifer's  Bath 
Tub"  at  Enfield.  A  friendly  plank  conducts  you  over  at 
this  point,  and  you  travel  on  through  one  of  the  wildest, 
coolest,  most  rocky  of  ravines,  with  the  water  springing 
and  roaring  beside  you,  and  the  rocks  above  filling  the 
narrow  pass  with  premature  twilight.  Here  is  a  cascade 
about  ten  feet  high,  which  raises  a  roar  as  you  approach 
it  almost  equal  in  volume  to  Enfield  in  all  its  glory.  At 
last  the  sunlight  bursts  upon  the  view  ahead,  you  issue 
from  the  ravine  and  your  sight  seeing  is  ended.  You 
take  a  lane  at  your  left  hand,  and  find  your  way  up  to 
the  Green  Tree  Tavern,  where  your  carriage  is  waiting, 
according  to  previous  orders,  to  convey  you  back  to  the 
village. 


THE  CASCADILLA. 


This  is  the  beautiful  and  original  name  of  one  of  our 
domesticated  creeks.  Besides  this  cognominal  superiority 
over  its  sister  streams,  it  has  the  advantage  of  being  the 
most  accessible.  It  is  not  a  wild  country  beauty,  like 
Taghkanic  or  Enfield,  but  trips  through  our  streets  like  a 
village  belle ;  yet  bursts  upon  us  from  the  glen  with  a 
freshness,  and  music,  and  frolic  life  which  many  a  village 
belle  would  share  to  a  far  greater  degree,  if  she,  too,  were 
oftener  seen  emerging  from  the  wild  and  bracing  scenes 
of  nature.  The  Cascadilla  is  our  pet  strea'm. 

The  banks  of  the  creek,  as  it  passes  through  the  vil 
lage,  are  planted  with  willows.  That  portion  of  it  which 
flows  through  what  is  called  Willow  Avenue  constitutes 
one  of  the  most  notable  features  of  our  "  Forest  City." 
For  more  than  half  a  mile  this  avenue,  consisting  of  two 
broad  and  handsome  roads,  with  the  swift  and  sparkling 
Cascadilla  between,  bordered  by  its  parallel  rows  of  wil 
low  trees,  extends  to  the  Lake.  On  a  pleasant  summer 
evening,  when  the  setting  sun  is  throwing  his  slant 
beams  across  it  with  a  transfiguring  glory,  and  when  the 
roads  are  alive  with  citizens  on  foot,  on  horseback  and  in 
carriages,  it  presents  a  highly  picturesque  and  attractive 
scene  to  the  stranger  landing  from  the  steam  boat. 

The  Ravine  begins  at  "  Williams's  Mill,"  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  village.  In  fact,  at  this  same  point,  it  was 
that  the  first  settlers  built  their  cabins,  and  thence  the 
village  grew  out  in  a  face-like  shape.  Within  a  stone's 


THE  CASCADILLA.  97 

throw  of  the  entrance  of  the  Ravine,  several  of  these  early 
buildings,  retaining  more  or  less  of  their  original  appear 
ance,  are  still  pointed  out.  Passing  into  the  ravine 
through  the  Mill  yard,  you  find  yourself  instantly  in  a 
retired  spot,  which,  before  the  establishment  of  hog-pens 
and  cow-yards  upon  its  border,  must  have  been  an  at 
tractive  place,  as  it  is  the  sensation  of  finding  so  wild  and 
secluded  a  spot  on  the  mere  turning  of  a  street  corner,  is 
worth  the  courting.  There  is  here,  too,  a  fall,  which, 
notwithstanding  the  abstraction  of  so  much  water  from 
the  stream  above  for  the  purposes  of  the  mill,  furnishes 
an  interesting  introduction  to  our  ramble.  In  thinking 
what  to  call  it,  I  am  reminded  of  one,  still  lingering  with 
us  in  a  ripe  old  age,  who  for  more  than  forty  years  has 
lifted  up  his  earnest  voice  like  the  cataract  in  the  hearing 
of  this  community,  speaking  for  God.  He  needs  no 
monument.  His  name  can  never  be  dissevered  from  the 
history  and  prosperity  of  Ithaca,  but  we  presume  to 
borrow  it  to  enrich  our  vocabulary,  and  would  christen 
this  first  Fall  of  the  Cascadilla  the  Wisner  Fall. 

Crossing  the  brook  on  stepping  stones  (and  here  it  may 
be  well  to  say  that  any  one  afraid  of  wet  feet  had  better 
not  try  the  Ravine  unless  the  water  is  quite  low). 
Keep  on  the  right  side  of  the  stream.  Presently  you  turn 
a  corner,  and  are  in  a  vast,  solemn  hall  of  Nature,  which 
would  of  itself  be  worth  the  visit  of  every  contemplative 
mind.  The  stream  turns  two  corners  in  instant  succes 
sion,  forming  an  amphitheatre  at  the  bend,  which 
strikingly  impresses  us  with  the  age  and  power  of  these 
floods  in  wearing  away  the  solid  rocks  in  such  deep  and 
graceful  curves.  Another  considerable  Fall  takes  place 
in  the  creek  as  it  descends  into  this  amphitheatre.  In 
time  of  freshet  this  double  bend  is  the  scene  of  mad  and 
boiling  and  thunderous  excitement,  as  the  floods  go  plung- 
13 


98  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

ing  through  their  tortuous  bed.  Just  beyond  this  second 
Fall  you  will  be  obliged  to  clamber  up  the  bank.  The 
walk  along  the  brink  above,  is  a  favorite  one  with  the 
writer,  especially  of  a  summer  afternoon,  so  shady,  so 
retired  and  inviting  of  day-dreams.  By  and  by  you  find 
yourself  in  a  grove  of  pine  and  hemlock,  dim  lighted 
as  a  cathedral,  and  carpeted  with  a  clean  and  fragrant 
matting  from  the  trees  above.  The  way  is  now  block 
aded  by  a  high  board  fence,  and  it  will  be  necessary  just 
this  side  of  it  to  descend  again.  Several  interesting 
glimpses  of  the  glen  and  stream  below  may  be  gained 
from  the  high  bank,  especially  a  view  of  the  first  cascade, 
which  marks  the  point  where  the  glen  becomes  more 
properly,  on  account  of  its  narrowing  width  and  wilder 
scenery,  a  Ravine.  Pouring  through  the  flume  of  what 
was  once  an  oil  factory  on  the  site  of  the  present  Casca- 
clilla  Place,  and  leaping  a  hundred  feet  downward  from 
the  side  of  tlie  glen  as  when  the  waters  burst  from  Horeb's 
smitten  rocks,  the  second  Cascade  is  just  before  you; 
and  on  reaching  the  bed  of  the  stream,  it  will  require  a 
little  engineering  to  pass  it  dry-shod  and  unsprinkled. 
Looking  back,  hereabouts,  a  distant  view  of  the  village, 
especially  of  the  gigantic  remains  of  an  extinct  oil-cloth 
factory  at  the  Inlet,  which  contrasts  oddly  enough  with 
the  romantic  scenery  around. 

Looking  ahead,  your  eyes  roam  refreshingly  along  a 
green  vista,  where  the  evergreens  meet  in  a  pointed 
Gothic  arch  above  the  stream.  Directly  above  you  the 
rocky  walls  rise,  as  finely  chiseled  and  as  solidly  masoned 
as  if  by  the  hand  of  man,  with  cedars  and  pines  clinging 
"  for  dear  life"  in  the  crevices,  and  perhaps  an  autumnal 
forest  tree  hanging  its  red  flag  over  the  heights.  Here 
and  there  a  tree  trunk,  mossy  and  old,  has  fallen  across 
the  path. 


THE  CASCADILLA.  99 

Presently  yon  pass  through  a  very  narrow  portal, 
where  the  rocks  stand  on  both  sides  like  the  buttresses 
of  some  great  castle  wall.  This  introduces  you  to  the 
third  of  the  little  cascades,  which  constitute  the  peculiar 
feature  of  this  stream.  A  little  beyond,  in  the  dim 
shadow  of  overhanging  cliffs  and  trees,  the  rocks  on 
your  right  have  been  worn  into  the  shape  of  huge  round 
altars,  on  which  the  Giants  that  warred  against  the  Gods, 
might  have  fitly  offered  penitential  sacrifices.  The  fourth 
cascade  is  particularly  beautiful,  seeming  to  be  made  up 
of  a  multitude  of  miniature  falls. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  third  of  the  Falls,  properly 
so  called,  of  which  Cascadilla  can  boast.  We  will  call 
it  Quarry  Falls,  from  the  fact  that  its  present  form  and 
size  are  partly  due  to  the  excavations  made  in  procuring 
the  stone  for  the  great  Building  above.  And  here  we 
ascend  to  Cascadilla  Place,  and  inspect  itjg  substantial 
structure,  and  the  magnificent  view  from  its  grounds. 
We  take  also  the  only  practicable  view  of  the  Giant's 
Staircase,  described  in  our  former  sketch.  A  few  steps 
above  this  wonder  of  nature,  we  descend  again  to  the 
bed  of  the  stream,  near  the  charming  cascade  No.  5, 
which  like  all  the  rest  has  beauties  of  its  own.  I  cannot 
attempt  to  describe  the  loveliness  of  these  sylvan  scenes, 
through  which  we  now  pass.  They  almost  make  us 
believe  in  the  wood-nymphs  and  naiads  of  old  mytho 
logy.  Certainly  these  ethereal  creatures  would  have 
haunted  just  such  spots  as  these,  and  would  scarcely 
have  startled  the  rambler  had  they  peered  at  him  through 
the  leafy  woods,  or  flashed  upon  his  sight  in  the  clear 
streamlet.  The  green  and  quiet  dell  with  the  sunlight 
flashing  through  the  trees  that  join  their  boughs  above, 
the  ancient  looking  rocks  covered  with  white  lichen  and 
long  bearded  moss,  and  the  gentle  streamlet  running 


100  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

through  the  midst,  make  up  one  of  those  ideal  scenes 
which  we  are  apt  to  think  exist  only  in  pictures  or  in 
dreams. 

We  turn  a  corner,  where  a  splendidly  lichened  rock 
juts  across  the  path,  obliging  us  to  climb  over  it  to  save 
our  feet  a  wetting,  and.  discover  the  sixth  cascade. 
These  cascades  are  to  the  Falls,  as  asteroids  to  planets, 
and  if  we  had  not  so  many  full  grown  cataracts  we 
should  esteem  ourselves  enviably  rich  in  the  possession 
of  these.  This  cascade  is  a  miniature  Buttermilk  Fall, 
flowing  as  it  does  for  a  considerable  distance  over  smooth 
and  sloping  rocks,  and  diving  with  a  curling  movement 
into  a  deep  pool.  This  is  a  very  favorable  place  for 
noting  the  varied  and  rich  coloring  of  the  rocks  under 
water,  brown  and  blue,  and  purple,  and  green,  and  black, 
and  neutral  tints  indescribable,  which  no  painter's  pa 
lette  may  reproduce.  Looking  onward  from  this  point, 
we  discover  another  exquisite  glade  with  the  evergreen 
boughs  bending  down  to  the  stream,  which  presents  a 
continuous  vista  of  cascades,  varying  in  height  from  one 
to  three  feet.  It  is  a  place  for  the  wreary  heart  to  rest 
from"  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,"  or  if  you  prefer 
it  from 

"The  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 
The  oppressor  s  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely, 
The  pangs  of  despised  love,  the  law's  delay, 
The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns 
That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes." 

I  leave  you  to  wonder  and  muse  alone,  agreeing  to 
meet  you  at  the  Dam  above.  There  our  limit  is  reached, 
and  you  have  your  choice  to  go  either  by  the  romantic 
path  to  Cascadilla  Place,  or  by  the  woodland  walks  which 
border  the  north  side  of  the  Ravine. 


CASCADILLA  FROM  WILLOW  POND. 


If  you  want  the  most  charming  and  accessible  ramble 
which  this  Paradise  of  Rambles  affords,  walk  or  ride  up 
to  Cascadilla  Place.  After  drinking  in  a  soul  full  of 
glorious  scenery,  made  up  of  hill  and  valley,  Lake  and 
Village,  forest  and  fruitful  field,  blue  sky  above,  and 
verdurous  landscape  threaded  by  silver  creeks  and  bath 
ing  in  sunlight  beneath,  betake  yourself  to  the  margin 
of  the  Ravine  a  little  below  the  Buildings.  In  fact,  it 
were  well  to  proceed  some  distance  till  you  reach  the 
extreme  edge  of  a  jutting  cliff  from  which  you  can  look 
up  the  Glen. 

Beneath  you  is  a  scene  of  great  wildncss.  The  gorge 
is  here  deeper  than  at  any  other  point  on  the  stream, 
and  so  narrow  that  the  opposite  Bank  seems  almost 
near  enough  to  leap  upon.  At  some  such  spot  a  Bridge 
is  soon  to  span  the  chasm,  adding  alike  to  the  pictur- 
esqueness  of  the  same,  and  the  convenience  of  the  visitor. 
Before  you  stretches  away  the  wild  and  lonely  glen, 
fringed  with  great  pines  and  cedars,  which  seem  in  the 
immense  proportions  of  the  rocks  to  which  they  cling, 
like  ferns  and  shrubs.  The  white  sheet  of  here  and  there 
a  cascade,  illuminates  the  somber  shades  below,  and  out 
of  the  side  of  rocks  on  the  right  leaps  a  jet  of  spray,  like 
some  fugitive  water  nymph  escaping  from  an  amorous 
Satyr.  It  is  truly  a  scene  for  a  painter. 

You  now  return  as  near  the  brink  as  a  prudent  regard 


102  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

to  life  and  limb  will  allow,  till  you  reacli  another  jutting 
cliff,  so  covered  with  low  trees  as  to  form  a  delightful 
bower,  whence  you  obtain  a  full  front  view  of  the  princi 
pal  Fall  of  which  Cascadilla  can  boast.  If  names  of 
natural  objects  ought  to  correspond  to  their  appearance, 
so  as  to  furnish  a  description  in  a  word,  we  are  at  no 
loss  here  to  call  this  Fall  the  Giant's  Staircase,  for  the 
water  tumbles  clown  as  regular  pair  of  stairs  as  ever  did 
the  small  servant  in  Dickens' s  Curiosity  SJtop,  and  if  it 
does  not  succeed  better  than  did  that  self-sacrificing 
domestic  in  waking  up  the  stout  gentlemen  who  visit 
this  locality,  it  will  be  because  they  are  not  intent  on  the 
Punch  and  Judy  shows  of  social  life,  that  there  is  no 
love  of  nature  left  in  them.  A  little  farther  on,  a  cliff 
just  over  the  Fall,  affords  a  still  different  view.  Here 
you  may  not  only  gaze  downward  at  the  Cataract,  but 
look  down  one  of  the  wildest  parts  of  the  glen,  and  just 
above,  a  charming  cascade  bursts  out  of  the  overhanging 
woods  and  rocks.  If  you  are  geologically  inclined,  the 
rock  on  which  you  stand,  Avhich  is  one  of  the  most  fos- 
siliferous  in  this  region,  will  yield  to  your  hammer  an 
abundance  of  specimens,  characteristic  -of  the  Chemung 
Group,  that  composes  nearly  all  our  rocks. 

Leaving  this  interesting  spot,  you  walk  straight  up  to 
the  Willow  Pond,  formed  by  the  accumulated  waters 
of  what  was  once  a  mill  race,  and  margined  by  that 
most  amphibious  of  trees.  Your  path  now  lies  along 
the  Dyke  which  borders  the  Pond  and  the  little  gurgling 
rivulet  which  feeds  it,  till  you  reach  the  Ultima  Tlmle 
of  your  ramble.  This  is  a  true  Lover's  Walk.  Above 
you  the  branching  trees,  in  summer  affording  an  arbor 
of  shade,  and  filled  with  singing  birds,  and  now  and 
then  a  darting  and  chattering  squirrel;  at  your  right 
hand  a  little  rapid  stream,  clear  and  crystal,  and  musical 


CASCADILLA  FROM  WILLOW  POND.        103 

as  a  happy  heart,  and  on  the  other  side  the  wooded  slope, 
that  forms  the  right  bank  of  the  Cascadilla,  whence  an 
undertone  of  sonorous  melody  comes  up  through  the 
leafy  shade,  and  an  occasional  gleam  of  the  glen  or  stream 
breaks  upon  the  sight. 

The  path  along  which  you  walk  is  as  level  and  good 
as  the  pavements  of  the  town.  Commend  me  to  this 
walk  when  I  would  think  bright  and  healthy  thoughts, 
or  would  hold  sweet  council  with  my  friend. 

You  are  stopped  at  last  by  a  most  prosaic  thing,  the 
Dam.  Gentle  reader,  do  not  be  annoyed,  our  young 
men  must  eat,  as  well  as  dream  dreams  and  see  visions. 
There  is  poetry  to  the  healthy  mind  in  the  abundance  of 
bread  for  the  hungry.  Besidesy  this  Dam  is  not  alto 
gether  devoid  of  the  picturesque  itself;  and  is  placed 
beyond  the  noteworthy  portion  of  the  stream.  Exercise 
your  ingenuity  in  finding  the  most  convenient  place  to 
cross  the  stream,  and  clamber  up  the  opposite  bank,  and 
you  are  in  the  woods.  If  you  have  a  stray  copy  of  Bry 
ant  in  your  pocket,  sit  down  on  the  first  mossy  stump 
and  read  his  "  Forest  Hymn,"  or  "  Inscription  for  the 
entrance  to  a  Wood,"  then  in  calm  and  musing  enjoy 
ment  wander  on  beneath  the  branching  trees,  so  inter 
spersed  with  evergreens,  that  winter  scarcely  brings  a 
change  over  the  scene.  The  ground  is  richly  carpeted 
with  moss,  of  five  or  six  varieties,  and  the  wild  flowers 
of  Spring,  the  Trifolium,  the  Columbine,  the  trailing 
Arbutus,  and  many  another  grow  no  where  more  luxuri 
antly.  The  squirrels  run  almost  under  your  feet,  and 
the  birds  mingle  their  shrill  treble  with  the  base  of  the 
Cascadilla.  You  catch  glimpses  of  the  Falls,  and  of  the 
distant  village.  You  find  something  new  to  admire  in 
every  fallen  trunk.  You  stoop  to  drink  of  the  clear  cool 
spring  that  gushes  out  from  the  roots  of  a  great  tree.  If 


104  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

you  wish  a  purely  woodland  walk,  you  take  the  right 
hand  path,  if  not  you  keep  as  near  as  possible  to  the 
Ravine.  You  emerge  at  last  in  view  of  the  residence  of 
Ezra  Cornell,  in  whose  grounds  you  have  been  wander 
ing  as  in  your  own,  and  return  to  the  village  through  the 
Cemetery,  whose  beauty  and  solemn  associations  furnish 
a  fitting  transition  to  the  busy  streets  beyond.  The 
Cemetery  in  fact,  is  worthy  of  a  separate  visit.  Although 
covering  but  16  acres  and  therefore  not  to  be  compared 
in  size  to  many  others,  its  natural  advantages,  in  the 
variety  of  its  surface,  and  its  native  growth  of  trees,  and 
above  all  its  commanding  views,  make  it  an  object  of 
admiration  to  all  visitors,  and  the  place  of  all  others  for 
the  dead  to  sleep,  and  the  living  to  meditate.  The  best 
view  of  Ithaca,  because  the  nearest  and  the  most  vivid, 
is  obtained  from  the  Fireman's  Monument,  You  look 
directly  down  upon  the  roofs  and  chimneys,  and  can 
hardly  escape  wishing  yourself  a  Mephistopheles,  with 
power  to  look  through  into  the  domestic  life  going  on 
beneath.  It  is  certainly  suggestive  of  the  truth,  that  our 
truest,  clearest,  and  most  impressive  view  of  life  can  only 
be  gained  from  the  standpoint  of  Death. 


14 


CAYUGA  LAKE. 


Among  the  many  acknowledged  attractions  of,  and  in 
the  vicinity  of  Ithaca,  the  bright  clear  waters  of  Cayuga 
Lake  loom  up  in  bold  prominence  in  the  back  ground 
of  the  picture,  as  seen  from  any  of  the  lofty  eminences 
almost  encircling  the  village. 

At  the  matin  hour  of  a  flowery  day  in  June,  spread 
out  at  your  feet  and  stretching  away  oif  to  the  north 
until  they  mingle  with  the  misty  line  of  the  horizon, 
that  has  its  boundary  over  the  more  lordly  Ontario,  there 
they  repose  as  quietly  as  if  neither  the  gentlest  zephyr 
or  borean  blasts  ever  disturbed  the  mirror-like  surface 
of  the  Lake.  And  at  such  an  hour  the  mild  cerulean 
blue  of  the  sky  is  painted  upon  it  with  a  softness  and 
delicacy  of  tone  that  mortal  artist  can  never  hope  to 
equal,  and  the  daintiest  tint  of  the  emerald  for  the  time 
being  is  dethroned.  Linger  awhile,  and  you  shall  see  the 
hue  of  the  empyrean  like  a  dissolving  view,  fade  imper 
ceptibly  away,  brightening  anon  into  the  most  delicate 
green,  and  this  in  turn  give  way  for  the  sombre  limning  of 
the  lowering  rain  cloud ;  the  recent  glassy  motionless  ex 
panse  is  seen  to  be  ruffled  occasionally  by  those  little 
puffs  of  wind,  the  avant  couriers  of  the  quickly  fol 
lowing  gale,  and  the  stormy  winds  begin  to  blow.  This 
typical  infant,  repose,  that  seemed  sweetly  slumbering 
in  his  cradle  of  flow^ery  fields  and  sloping  banks  is 
aroused,  and  putting  off  the  habiliments  of  motionless 


108  SCENERY  OP  ITHACA. 

serenity,  seems  rapidly  transformed  to  the  giant  propor 
tions  of  fabled  Eolus,  careering  high  above  and  around, 
as  if  a  very  demon  of  destruction.  Then  does  our  hitherto 
fair  and  gentle  Cayuga  impress  us  with  vague  ideas  of 
the  grand,  the  fearful  and  the  terrible,  and  then  do  her 
foaming  crested  waves  seem  mad  Avith  frantic  efforts  to 
rival  their  kindred  billows  of  the  "  vasty  deep." 

Who  among  us  but  loves  to  steal  away  for  awhile  from 
the  dull,  stern  realities  of  life,  and  commune  with  nature  at 
her  own  altars — to  receive  inspiration  from  her  own  high 
priests.  So  eloquently  addressing  us  in  the  low  murmur 
ing  of  the  west  wind,  making  sweet  music  in  the  lofty 
tree  tops  —  or  thundering  in  our  ears  in  the  storm,  the 
tempest,  the  rushing  cataract  and  the  wild  rolling  flood ; 
so  photographed  upon  our  perceptions  in  the  placid 
lake,  the  lofty  mountain,  or  the  boundless  ocean.  And 
who  that  was  ever  moved  by  influences  of  such  a  cha 
racter,  can  wonder  that  the  swarthy  and  benighted 
Asiatic  should  worship  the  sacred  Ganges,  or  that  the 
settlers  on  the  banks  of  the  majestic  Hudson  should 
almost  adore  it,  or  that  we,  who  daily  look  upon  the 
fair  Cayuga  should  love  her,  and  never  tire  in  singing 
her  praises. 

But  Cayuga  Lake  possesses  other  attributes  than  those, 
as  seen  through  the  prismatic  lens  of  the  poet.  A  great 
highway  of  commerce  —  bearing  upon  its  broad  bosom 
the  products  of  the  field,  the  forest,  the  mine  and  the 
manufactory.  It  claims  our  attention  as  good  business 
men,  and  challenges  our  highest  admiration  when  ob 
served  from  a  merely  economic  stand  point  of  view. 
Deep,  varying  from  one  hundred  to  four  hundred  feet ; 
broad,  ranging  from  one  and  a  half  miles  at  Ithaca,  to 
where,  as  at  Aurora,  it  expands  to  a  breadth  of  nearly 
five  miles,  and  on  a  misty  day  is  no  bad  reminder  of  the 


CAYUGA  LAKE.  109 

great  Salt  Sea;  navigable  at  nearly  all  seasons  of  the 
year,  uniform  in  volume,  ever  and  slowly  moving  north 
ward  till  its  waters  mingle  with  and  lose  their  identity 
in  the  yet  vaster  and  deeper  Ontario  —  connecting  the 
great  Erie  with  the  N.  Y.  Central  Rail  Road,  and  pass 
ing  through  the  richest  farming  lands  in  the  country  for 
forty  miles,  and  with  other  attributes  of  sterling  value, 
why  should  it  not  be  prized  at  its  true  worth?  So  then, 
while  the  lover  of  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime,  delights  to 
gaze  upon  it  from  hill  top  and  sloping  lawn,  to  take  note 
only  of  its  value  as  a  vast  and  exquisite  picture,  the  man 
of  commerce  looks  down  upon  this  inland  sea  through  a 
very  different  medium.  To  such  men,  come  up  before 
the  mind's  eye,  visions  of  magnificent  steamers,  with  their 
priceless  freights  of  humanity ;  the  white  winged  sloop 
and  schooner,  and  that  chef  d"1  (zuvre  of  marine  architecture, 
the  plodding  canal  boat.  Behind  these  visions,  and 
separated  but  by  a  gossamer  curtain,  stands  the  persistent 
icill,  that  transforms  these  vagaries  of  the  imagination, 
as  if  by  the  touch  of  magic,  into  substantial,  tangible 
realities.  A  passing  moment  upon  the  log  book  of  time 
intervenes,  and  lo  !  like  Minerva  from  the  brain  of  Jupi 
ter,  we  see  leaping  from  their  ways,  the  Kate  Morgans, 
the  Auroras  and  the  Sheldrakes,  and  as  they  go  to  and 
fro,  up  and  down  the  bright  waters,  the  astonished  deni 
zens  of  Cayuga's  dark  depths  are  frightened  from  their 
usual,  fishy  propriety.  Scanning  the  horizon  we  see 
those  winged  messengers  of  trade,  the  Gulielmas,  the  J. 
Prices  and  the  Nymphs  —  obeying  an  unseen  power, 
astound  the  rustic,  who  standing  upon  the  breezy  shore, 
looks  unutterable  things,  and  almost  doubts  the  evidence 
of  his  own  senses,  while  he  sees  them  moving  with 
crested  bow  and  lengthened  wake  right  into  the  ' '  teeth 
of  the  wind."  And  then  again  following  the  tortuous 


110  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

windings  of  the  classic  Inlet,  we  see  a  long  line  of  canal 
boats  meandering  up  and  down  that  stream  obedient  to 
the  steam  tug,  the  Bucephalus  of  the  tow-path,  or  per 
haps,  like  the  Commercial  Bank  of  Clyde,  with  Admiral 
Tilton  in  command,  running  square  before  the  wTind, 
provided  always,  a  hurricane  has  sufficient  power  to 
overcome  her  modeled  inertia. 

Cayuga  Lake  is  peculiarly  valuable  to  another  and  a 
very  worthy  class ;  to  those  who  see  beneath  its  shiny 
waves,  the  haunts  of  the  delicious  trout  and  the  noble 
pike,  the  black  bass  and  the  golden  perch.  It  is  valued 
by  him  who  "  knoweth  where  the  bullheads  hide,"  to 
they  who  drop  their  lines  at  random,  or  that  large  and 
•energetic  class  who  draw  their  nets  to  Leonard's  pebbly 
shore.  And  there  is  still  another  class  of  men,  who 
though  not  numerous,  are  not  the  less  enthusiastic  in 
their  love  and  appreciation  of  this  superb  sheet  of  water. 
Your  gallant  yachtsman  looks  upon  it,  and  as  his  practi 
cal  eye  runs  over  the  scene,  he  sees  a  great  watery  plain, 
whereon  contending  yachts  enter  the  lists,  and  with 
every  appliance  of  art  brought  to  bear  upon  the  modeling 
of  faultless  hulls  —  with  the  skill  and  daring  of  the  most 
expert  navigators,  they  strive  in  honorable  competition 
for  the  silver  cup,  the  richly  chased  pitcher,  or  the  far 
reaching  telescope.  He  who  can  witness  a  spirited  and 
well  conducted  Eegatta,  favored  with  a  good  twelve 
knot  breeze,  and  not  find  therein  a  source  of  refined 
pleasure,  lacks  something,  in  the  general  "  make  up  "  of 
the  man ;  and  in  the  golden  chain  that  unites  the  nobler 
and  more  genial  qualities  of  our  nature,  if  the  smallest 
of  the  links,  you  strike  one. 

"  Tenth  or  ten  thousandth,  breaks  the  chain  alike." 
These  men  who  love  the  foaming  billow,  and  to  whom 
there  is  no  sweeter  music  than  that  performed  by  the 


CAYUGA  LAKE.  Ill 

winds  as  they  whistle  through  masts  and  cordage  —  well 
remember  the  days  when  the  "  Ada"  tore  the  chaplet  of 
victory  from  the  fleet  keeled  Union  of  Geneva  in  one 
of  the  best  contested  regattas  ever  witnessed  upon  our 
waters,  and  again  and  still  more  decidedly  on  the  deep 
dark  Seneca.  They  look  forward  to  a  coming  time 
when  with  swifter  keels  and  "  foemen  worth  of  their  steel," 
the  anticipation  of  other  and  greater  triumphs  shall  even 
tuate  in  fruition. 

The  Ithaca  Yacht  Club,  in  a  Shakesperian  sense,  may 
be  considered  the  Prospero  of  Cayuga  and  our  "  rightful 
duke  of  Milan,"  and  in  a  Bennett,  they  perceive  the  simili 
tude  to  a  certain  imaginary  extent,  to  the  great  Poet  him 
self,  for  did  they  not  both  create  an  Ariel  ready  at  the 
bidding  of  a  Prospero;  or  the  said  Club,  to  fly  to  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  universe  or  Cayuga,  "  and  fetch 
dew  from  the  still  vex'd  Bermoothes"  of  Aurora  Bay  or 
Port  Renwick  ? 

To  the  leisurely  traveler  and  the  pleasure  seeker,  a 
sail  up  or  down  this  beautiful  sheet  of  water  can  but  be 
a  source  of  real  gratification.  Stop  on  the  trip  down,  eight 
miles  from  Ithaca,  at  Goodwin's  Point,  and  that  awful 
chasm  at  Taghkanic  Falls  shall  fill  you  with  wonder  and 
delight.  Proceed  on,  and  Aurora,  "  loveliest  village  of 
the  plain"  gems  the  east  bank  of  the  Lake,  twelve  miles 
south  of  Cayuga  bridge,  and  almost  any  fine  day  in  sum 
mer,  or  even  as  late  as  gorgeous  October,  a  yachtsman 
may  not  pass  within  a  marine  mile  of  a  line  drawn  from 
Long  Point  to  Levanna,  but  the  "  Sentinel"  will  hail  him 
with  a  sailor's  welcome,  to  drop  anchor  under  the  (cham 
paign?)  guns  of  Castle  Bogart,  or  bid  him  "  God  speed" 
on  to  his  place  of  destination.  Springport,  six  miles 
farther  to  the  northward  will  well  repay  a  visit.  The 
Union  Springs  are  enough  if  we  only  hint  at  the  lurking 


112  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

danger  of  rosy  cheeks  and  flashing  eyes.  Proceeding  six 
miles  further  on,  you  are  at  Cayuga,  your  journey  termi 
nates,  and  the  Lake  and  the  graceful,  commodious  steamer 
are  exchanged  for  the  snorting,  rushing  Locomotive.  This 
is  but  a  brief  and  imperfect  pen  picture  of  Cayuga  Lake  in 
some  of  its  aspects  of  poetic  beauty,  commercial  value 
and  adaption  to  aquatic  sports.  Those  well  acquainted 
with  its  long  reaches  of  semicirc.ular  cultivated  shore,  its 
outlying  points  and  headlands,  its  shady  banks  and 
rocks  rising  precipitously  from  the  watery  depths,  will 
feel  and  know  the  painter's  brush  has  not  laid  on  the 
colors  with  a  too  lavish  hand,  either  in  force  or  brilliancy. 
That  the  citizens  of  Ithaca  should  wish  to  share  their  feel 
ings  of  pride  and  gratification  with  the  world  at  large, 
when  they  feast  their  eyes  upon,  or  sail  over  this  highway 
of  wealth,  is  but  very  natural.  Time  and  space  will  not 
permit  more  than  an  allusion  to  the  traditions  of  the  sub 
ject  of  this  sketch,  rich  as  it  is  in  material.  The  genius 
of  a  Cooper  is  only  necessary  to  erect  upon  strong  foun 
dations  of  fact,  superstructures  of  thrilling  romances  of 
the  aboriginal  days  of  Cayuga  Lake. 


15 


THE  BRIDAL  VEIL  OF  TAGHKANIC. 


On  the  brow  of  the  delicate  streamlet, 

In  the  folds  of  its  forest  hair, 
I  see  the  gems  of  a  bridal, 

The  pearls  of  a  peerless  pair. 

The  rill  of  the  shadowy  woodland, 
Runs  to  the  Lake  with  a  spring  : 

The  Indian  maid,  Taghkanic, 
Weds  the  Cayuga  King. 

In  the  shade  of  the  murmuring  maple 

Wait,  fair  girl,  at  my  side, 
Till  I  lift  your  wondering  lashes 

On  the  dainty  lace  of  the  bride. 

Nearer  your  tremulous  footstep  ; 

Yonder  the  flash  of  your  eye  ; 
Through  the  break  of  the  marginal  leaflets, 

Where  the  mist  sails  up  to  the  sky. 

You  see  it : —  I  know  by  the  color 
That  tells  me  its  rose-red  tale : 

You  see,  in  the  frame  of  the  forest, 
The  lace  of  the  bridal  veil. 

Over  the  rock  it  is  floating :  — 
Is  it  woven  of  diamonds  or  spray  : 

Of  molten  pearl  or  of  star-dust  ?  — 
Tell  me  the  fabric,  I  pray. 


116  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

You  answer  me  only  with  dimples 

Hid  in  a  tinting  of  rose, 
And  the  light  of  our  own  near  bridal 

Under  your  eyelid  glows. 

The  Indian  maid,  Taghkanic, 

Weds  with  the  Sapphire  King ;  — 
But  a  dearer  and  daintier  bridal 
f      The  bloomings  of  June  shall  bring. 


CORNELL  LIBRARY. 


This  Institution,  now  substantially  completed,  owes 
its  existence  to  the  public  spirit  and  munificence  of  Hon. 
Ezra  Cornell,  whose  name  it  very  appropriately  bears. 
It  is  located  upon  the  corner  of  Tioga  and  Seneca  streets 
in  Ithaca ;  having  a  front  upon  the  former  of  sixty-eight 
feet,  and  a  depth  of  one  hundred.  The  building  is  of 
brick,  three  stories  in  height,  and  so  constructed  as  to 
be  substantially  fire-proof. 

The  idea  in  which  this  enterprise  originated  was  to 
bring  within  the  reach  of  all  classes,  freely  and  without 
cost  to  them,  the  treasures  of  literature  and  science ;  and 
to  stimulate  and  encourage  the  intellectual  growth  of  the 
communities  within  its  influence. 

In  the  accomplishment  of  this  purpose,  the  clear,  prac 
tical  intellect  of  its  founder  foresaw,  as  the  first  condition 
of  success,  that  the  Institution  should  be  self-supporting ; 
never  a  dependent  upon  the  tardy  bounty  that  half  aids 
and  half  destroys  a  needy  enterprise;  but  possessing 
within  itself  the  means  of  independent  existence,  and 
permanent,  and  sturdy  growth.  Accordingly,  the  edifice 
erected  was  planned  so  as  to  contain,  not  only  the 
Library  and  its  accessories,  but  also  many  rooms  so 
admirably  adapted  to  business  purposes  as  to  command, 
at  all  times  in  the  future,  a  large  and  steadily  increasing 
rental,  and  thus  furnish  strength  and  vitality  to  the  In 
stitution,  through  the  agency  of  a  permanent  and  durable 
income. 


120  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

The  execution  of  this  plan  met  the  approval  of  the 
entire  community.  The  front  of  the  building,  on  the 
first  floor,  is  now  occupied  by  the  post  office,  fitted  up 
with  an  elegance  and  convenience  rarely  excelled ;  and 
the  First  National  Bank,  whose  business  rooms,  if  not  as 
gorgeous  as  those  of  the  Metropolis,  are  at  least  as  pleasant 
and  cheerful ;  while  the  rear  of  the  building  is  devoted 
to  offices,  all  adding  their  share  to  the  support  of  the 
Library.  Here  also  is  the  arsenal  of  the  De  Witt  Guards, 
arranged  and  adorned  with  a  taste  and  elegance  which 
does  them  credit ;  their  drill-room,  large  and  convenient. 
The  Library  Hall,  a  room  for  public  purposes,  capable 
of  seating  an  audience  of  eight  hundred  persons,  and 
lighted  from  the  ceiling  through  globes  of  glass ;  the 
Farmers'  Club  Room,  whose  museum  of  curiosities,  and 
specimens  of  vegetable  growths  and  mineral  formations 
have  become  both  interesting  and  valuable ;  and  the  Hall 
of  the  Historical  Society,  whose  collection,  needing  only 
to  be  arranged  and  systematized,  is  rapidly  advancing  in 
interest  and  importance. 

From  all  these  sources  revenue  flows,  steadily  and 
ungrudgingly,  into  the  treasury  of  the  Library,  making 
it  no  dependent  upon  the  charitable  impulses  of  indi 
viduals  or  the  public  ;  but  able,  within  itself,  abundantly 
to  secure  its  own  existence,  and  promote  its  own  future 
improvement.  And  with  the  additional  aid  of  the  per 
manent  endowments,  soon  to  be  made  by  the  liberality 
of  its  founder,  it  will  be  able  to  act  always  independently 
and  with  effect,  become  a  recognized  power  in  the  com 
munity,  and  largely  mould  and  shape  the  mental  and 
moral  character  within  the  circle  of  its  influence. 

Its  organization  has  another  commendable  element. 
It  is  neither  sectarian  nor  partizan.  All  denominations 
are  represented  in  its  governing  Board,  and  must  con- 


CORNELL  LIBRARY.  121 

tinue  to  be.  All  parties,  and  shades  of  parties  have  equal 
rights  in  its  management ;  and  the  votes  of  the  people 
which  elect  a  president  of  the  village,  the  votes  of  the 
firemen  electing  their  chief  engineer,  the  votes  of  the 
board  of  supervisors  selecting  their  chairman,  directly 
affect,  through  these  officers,  the  character  and  material 
of  the  Library  corporation.  So  that  no  partial  or  imper 
fect  good  is  intended;  but  one  that  is  general, universal, 
equally  open  and  free  to  all. 

The  Library  itself  is  finished  with  great  beauty  and 
elegance.  Its  alcove-columns  represent  each  of  the 
varieties  of  our  native  forest  woods.  The  dark  swarthy 
hue  of  the  walnut,  the  delicate  yellow  tracery  of  the 
pine,  the  warm  veining  of  the  beach  and  maple,  the  red 
glow  of  the  cedar,  the  shining  panels  of  the  elm,  the 
gnarled  heart  of  the  locust,  and  the  hard,  white  grain  of  the 
hickory,  and  the  dusk  shadings  of  the  oak ;  each,  with 
their  remaining  associates  of  the  forest,  combine  to  make 
interesting  and  beautiful,  this  quiet  abode  of  Literature 
and  Science.  Its  alcoves  are  arranged  in  double  stories, 
and  are  capable  of  holding  forty  or  fifty  thousand  vol 
umes,  with  a  means  of  expansion  and  enlargement  to 
any  extent  which  the  good  fortune  of  the  future  may 
make  desirable. 

The  work  of  filling  these  waiting  shelves  with  their 
silent  but  eloquent  occupants  has  already  begun.  About 
two  thousand  volumes  have  been  selected  and  pur 
chased  by  Mr.  Cornell ;  among  which  the  glowing 
colors  of  Audubon's  Birds  of  America,  and  the  innu 
merable  plates  of  the  Inconographic  Cyclopaedia,  and  the 
old,  quaint  volumes  illustrating  the  early  condition  and 
architecture  of  London,  indicate  very  clearly  his  purpose 
to  make  the  Library  collection  one  of  great  interest  and 
16 


122  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

excellence,  and  not  to  be  baffled  in  its  execution  by  even 
grave  questions  of  expense. 

Attached  to  the  Library,  and  so  arranged  as  to  be 
used  in  connection  with  it,  are  two  Reading  Rooms,  one 
intended  to  be  exclusively  occupied  by  ladies,  and  the 
other  by  gentlemen ;  to  be  open  and  ready  for  use  at  all 
times ;  where  will  be  found  the  newspaper  and  periodi 
cal  excellence  of  the  day,  and  where,  it  is  hoped,  a  plea 
sant  and  cheerful  place  will  be  found,  to  lure  the  young 
from  the  dissipation  and  revelry  of  idle  days  and  wasted 
evenings,  to  the  pleasures  of  intellectual  culture,  and 
genial  and  improving  society. 

Much  of  these  results  is  yet  in  the  future,  but  the 
foundation  upon  which  they  are  to  rest  is  already  secure ; 
and  the  pleasure-seeker  who  wanders  amid  the  unrivalled 
scenery  which  marks  the  head  waters  of  the  Cayuga, 
when  tired  of  the  roar  of  waterfalls,  or  cool  drip  of 
cascades,  or  summer  murmur  of  waves,  will  always  find 
welcome  and  rest  in  the  quiet  and  pleasant  alcoves  of 
the  Cornell  Library. 


THE  CORNELL  UNIVERSITY. 

BY  A.   D.  WHITE. 

In  the  educational  annals  of  the  State  of  New  York 
the  noblest  deed  by  far  is  the  foundation  of  the  Univer 
sity  at  Ithaca  by  the  Hon.  Ezra  Cornell. 

The  General  Government  had  made,  in  1863,  an  appro 
priation  of  lands  to  the  different  States  and  Territories,  for 
the  establishment  of  colleges  devoted  to  agricultural, 
mechanical  and  other  arts  and  sciences.  Of  this  appro 
priation  the  share  of  New  York  was  very  nearly  a  million 
of  acres. 

Of  course  various  parties  rushed  forward  to  claim 
portions  of  this  generous  provision.  For  a  time  it 
seemed  destined  to  be  scattered  among  all  the  institutions 
known  as  colleges  throughout  the  State  —  and  that  thus 
the  whole  fund  would  be  frittered  away.  But  into  all 
this  clamor  quietly  stepped  Mr.  Cornell,  insisted  that  the 
fund,  to  be  efficient,  must  be  kept  together  in  one  place, 
and  agreed  that  he  would  give  half  a  million  of  dollars  to 
an  institution  to  be  established  at  Ithaca,  provided  the 
State  should  give  such  institution  the  income  of  the  new 
fund. 

Despite  much  opposition,  a  law  was  passed  chartering 
the  Cornell  University,  and  in  September  of  1865  the  first 
business  meeting  of  its  trustees  was  held  at  Ithaca,  Gov. 
Fenton  presiding. 

Mr.  Cornell's  promises  were  far  more  than  redeemed. 


124  SCENERY  or  ITHACA. 

He  gave  into  the  hands  of  the  trustees  not  merely  the 
500,000  dollars,  but  a  beautiful  site  and  farm  of  over  two 
hundred  acres,  beside  the  Jewett  cabinet — the  most 
complete  of  its  kind  in  the  country  —  which  had  recently 
cost  him  ten  thousand  dollars.  Nor  did  his  munificence 
end  here.  In  accordance  with  a  provision  in  the  charter, 
he  gave  $25,000  to  found  a  professorship  of  agriculture  at 
Genesee  College,  and  invested  an  additional  sum  of 
50,000  dollars  for  the  University. 

The  plan  of  instruction  is  not  yet  sufficiently  developed 
to  be  announced,  but  while  it  is  intended  to  begin  with  a 
purely  agricultural  and  scientific  course,  it  is  not  doubted 
•that  such  course  will  quickly  expand  into  a  large  and 
•complete  university. 

The  plans  for  building  embrace  large  dormitories, 
lecture  and  recitation  rooms,  public  halls,  library, 
museum,  laboratory,  workshops,  farm  buildings,  dwell 
ings,  &c.  It  is  intended  to  erect  them  from  time  to  time 
from  the  interest  of  the  Cornell  fund,  as  they  may  be 
needed.  It  is  agreed  that  while  the  buildings  ought  to  be 
substantial  and  tasteful,  there  shall  be  no  attempt  at 
display. 

The  general  arrangement  will  be  in  large  quadrangles, 
.as  most  convenient  and  effective. 

The  site  is  of  surpassing  beauty.  A  plateau  over  three 
hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  Cayuga  Lake,  bordered 
on  one  side  by  the  Cascadilla  and  on  the  other  by  Fall 
Creek,  gives  a  noble  place  for  the  buildings  and  orna 
mental  grounds. 

Back  of  these  is  the  great  college  farm,  on  either  side 
are  ravines,  rocks  and  falls  of  water,  combining  not  less 
beautifully  than  those  at  Trenton. 

In  front,  stretching  far  to  the  right  as  eye  can  reach, 
are  the  beautiful  waters  of  Lake  Cayuga,  —  directly  in 


CORNELL  UNIVERSITY.  125 

front  is  the  tidy  and  thriving  village  of  Ithaca,  its  spires 
and  towers  rising  amid  masses  of  foliage  —  and  to  the  left 
sweeps  a  bold  range  of  hills,  diversified  with  groves  and 
cultivated  fields  and  dotted  with  farm-houses,  closing  in 
the  whole  scene  as  with  the  walls  of  an  amphitheatre. 
It  is  a  seat  worthy  the  ideal  which  it  is  believed  Mr. 
Cornell's  munificence  will  make  real. 

By  the  terms  of  its  foundation  statutes,  the  University 
must  go  into  operation  by  August,  1867. 

Of  course  it  is  too  early  to  give  any  complete  de 
scription  of  an  institution  from  which  so  much  is  to  be 
hoped,  but  the  munificence  of  its  founder,  his  steady 
earnestness  in  pressing  on  the  work,  and  the  cooperation 
of  so  many  devoted  to  science  and  education,  afford 
ample  ground  for  the  belief  that '  the  Cornell  University 
is  destined  to  become  an  honor  to  the  nation  and  a  power 
in  it. 


CORNELL  UNIVERSITY. 


OIIGANIZATION. 


Trustees. 

His  Excellency,  Gov.  Keuben  E.  Hon.  A.  D.  White,  Syracuse, 

Fenton,  Hon.  Charles  J.  Folger,  Geneva, 

Lieut.  Gov.  Thomas  G.  Alvord,  Hon.  Edwin  B.  Morgan,  Aurora. 

Hon.  V.  M.  Rice,  Sup.  Pub.  In-  Hon.  John  M.  Parker,  Owego, 

struction,  Hon.  T.  C.  Peters.  Darien. 

Hon.  Horace  Greeley,  New  York,  Hiram  Sibley,  Rochester, 

Hon.  Edwin  D.  Morgan,   New  Hon.  Lyman  Tremain,  Albany, 

York,  Hon.  Ezra  Cornell,  Ithaca. 

Hon.  Erastus  Brooks.  New  York,  Hon.  J.  B.  Williams,      do 

Hon.  Wm.  Kelly,  Rhinebeck;  Hon.  Geo.  W.  Schuyier,  do 
Gen.  J.  Merideth  Read  Jr.,  Albany,  William  Andrus,  do 

Hon.  Geo.  H.  Andrews,  Spring-  John  McGraw,  do 

field,  Otsego  county,  Francis  M.  Finch,  do 

Hon.  A.  B.   \\  eaver,  Deerfield,  Alonzo  B.  Cornell,          do 

Oueida  county, 


Chairman,  Treasurer,  Secretary, 

Hon.  Ezra  Cornell,      Hon.  Geo.  W.  Schuyier,    Francis  M.  Finch. 

Executive  Committee. 

William  Andrus.  Hon.  John  M.  Parker, 

Hon.  Josiah  B.  Williams,  Hon.  Ezra  Cornell, 

Hon.  George  W.  Schuyier,  Hon.  Thomas  G.  Alvord, 

Alonzo  B.  Cornell,  Hon.  Horace  Greeley. 
Hon.  Edwin  B.  Morgan, 

Building  Committee.  > 

Hon.  A.  D.  White,  Hon.  Ezra  Cornell, 

Hon.  WTilliam  Kelly,  Hon.  A.  B.  Weaver. 

Francis  M.  Finch. 

Finance  Committee. 

Hon.  Edwin  D.  Morgan,  John  McGraw, 

Hon.  Josiah  B.  Williams.  Hon.  William  Kelly, 

A.  B.  Cornell. 


CORNELL  UNIVERSITY. 


ORIGIN  AND  PLAN. 

It  is  intended  here  merely  to  sketch  the  beginnings  of 
an  enterprise  whose  ultimate  purposes  are  so  large  and 
grand  as  to  tempt  one  to  luxuriant  prophecy  rather  than 
sober  recital. 

A  volume  which  leads  its  readers  in  a  lengthened 
stroll  among  the  cascades  and  cataracts  which  form  the 
head-waters  of  the  Cayuga,  would  be  sadly  incomplete 
if  it  gave  no  hint  of  the  Institution  of  Learning  prepar 
ing  to  rise  in  their  midst  and  dominate  them  all. 

Therefore,  it  is  proposed  to  sketch  briefly,  and  it  is 
hoped,  coolly,  the  origin  and  aim  of  the  Cornell  Uni 
versity. 

To  speak  very  generally,  it  proposes  to  accomplish  in 
the  higher  walks  of  learning,  what  our  free  school  sys 
tem  has  nobly  and  successfully  done  in  the  rudimental 
branches;  to  afford  to  the  poor  scholar,  struggling  to 
educate  himself  up  to  high  standards  of  acquirement, 
the  precise  opportunity  which  he  needs,  and  so  to  place 
all  upon  a  level,  that  within  its  walls  there  shall  be  no 
aristocracy  of  Family  or  Fortune,  but  only  that  of  Brain. 

It  originated  in  the  years  of  war.  The  waste  of  trea 
sure  and  of  life  in  crushing  rebellion,  did  not  paralyze, 
but  only  strengthened  the  purpose  of  its  founder.  There 
seemed  to  him  only  the  more  terrible  need  of  a  widely 
diffused  and  thoroughly  disciplined  intelligence. 

Congress  had  granted  to  the  several  States  a  princely 
inheritance  of  public  lands  to  be  devoted  to  educational 


128  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

purposes.  The  portion  falling  to  the  State  of  New  York 
represented  about  one  million  of  acres.  Our  legislature  had 
given  this  magnificent  donation  to  an  institution  already 
in  existence,  upon  certain  special  conditions,  framed  to 
ensure  results  commensurate  with  the  splendor  of  the 
gift.  Those  conditions  were  not  performed ;  no  sure 
guaranty  of  their  fulfillment  in  the  future  could  be  ob 
tained;  and  in  this  emergency  a  senator  rose  in  his 
place  at  the  Capitol  and  proposed  to  give  two  hundred 
acres  of  land  and  half  a  million  of  dollars  to  found  a 
University.  This,  in  the  midst  of  a  desolating  war, 
bravely  indicated  the  strength  of  the  American  arm,  and 
the  courage  of  the  American  heart. 

Difficulties  however  sprang  up.  Other  existing  insti 
tutions  of  learning  asked  for  portions  of  the  congres 
sional  grant ;  but  the  evil  of  dividing  and  so  dissipating 
the  fund  became  so  plainly  apparent,  that  in  the  end  all 
magnanimously  yielded  the  advancement  of  their  own 
interests  to  the  purpose  of  building  up  one  grand,  central 
University,  to  which  the  gift  of  the  nation  and  the  en 
dowment  of  its  founder  should  be  given  unbroken; — all, 
except  one.  The  gift  of  land  and  of  money  was  per 
mitted  to  be  made  upon  a  condition  which  reads  thus  in 
the  Act  of  Incorporation : 

"  Provided  further,  that  no  such  payment  shall  be 
made  unless  within  six  months  from  the  passage  of  this 
Act,  said  Ezra  Cornell  of  Ithaca  shall  pay  over  to  the 
Trustees  of  Genesee  College,  located  at  Lima  in  this  State, 
the  sum  of  Twenty  Five  Thousand  Dollars  for  the  purpose 
of  establishing  in  said  Genesee  College  a  professorship 
of  Agricultural  Chemistry." 

This  condition  was  fulfilled.  The  money  was  paid  to 
"  the  Trustees  of  Genesee  College  located  at  Lima : "  they 
accepted  it  "  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  in  said 


CORNELL  UNIVERSITY.  129 

Genesee  College  a  professorship  of  Agricultural  Chem 
istry."  May  the  result  be  all  that  the  warmest  advocates 
of  the  measure  can  possibly  have  anticipated ! 

Having  thus  complied  with  this  preliminary  condition, 
the  founder  of  the  University  was  left  at  liberty  to  give 
away  a  half  million  of  dollars.  This  was  done  promptly, 
and  the  Trustees  of  the  Institution,  men  of  state  and 
national  reputation  in  large  proportion,  at  once  entered 
upon  their  duties. 

The  location  decided  upon  is  one  of  rare  excellence. 
All  who  have  read  the  descriptions  of  this  volume  will 
recall  the  scenery  of  Fall  Creek  and  the  Cascadilla  ; 
the  one  a  chain  of  cataracts,  the  other  of  cascades.  Be 
tween  these  two  streams,  upon  the  slope  of  an  eastern 
hill  are  the  grounds  of  the  University.  In  the  valley  at 
the  north  is  the  long,  blue  line  of  the  Lake,  bending 
gracefully  around  green  headlands  and  pebbly  points, 
and  melting  into  the  sky  in  the  far  distance.  Below  are 
the  spires,  and  clustered  dwellings,  and  shaded  streets  of 
the  village ;  and  beyond  the  horizon  is  barred  by  the 
rise  of  the  Western  hill,  dotted  with  rural  homes,  and 
green  with  the  promise  of  spring,  or  golden  with  the 
ripe  wealth  of  summer.  Far  at  the  south  glides  away  a 
winding  valley,  buttressed  on  either  hand  by  silent  hills 
and  hiding  in  its  bosom  a  brawling  stream,  whose  route 
is  marked  by  a  misty  haze.  On  every  hand  nature  pre 
sents  all  her  beautiful  variety,  and  the  eye  is  never  weary 
with  the  changeful  landscape. 

Here  the  labor  of  a  century  is  to  begin.  The  artisan  is 
at  work.  Lofty  observatory,  graceful  library,  spired 
chapel,  massive  dormitory,  tasteful  cabinet, — these  are 
yet  in  the  future  slowly  to  grow  into  being  and  beauty, 
and  swarm  with  the  busy  youth  of  the  State  in  the  com 
ing  time.  The  rest  is  prophecy.  If  is  better  to  leave 
17 


130  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

that  to  the  swift  unfolding  of  the  years.  Only  this  is 
sure,  that  back  of  and  behind  this  enterprise  stands  the 
firm  will  and  dauntless  purpose  that  spoke  it  into  life, 
with  every  noble  energy  and  unselfish  impulse  chrystal- 
lizing  about  it;  determined,  if  life  be  spared,  to  see  it 
fully  accomplish  the  highest  destiny  marked  out  for  it  ; 
and  to  make  it  at  once  the  pride,  the  glory  and  the  safe 
guard  of  the  State. 


THE  MANUFACTURING  FACILITIES 
OF  ITHACA. 


BY  E.  CORNELL. 

The  elements  of  cheap  power  is  the  first  essential 
necessity  for  manufacturing.  The  facility  for  reaching 
market  through  cheap  and  reliable  avenues  is  the  next 
important  consideration.  Then  follows  the  questions  of 
cheap  building  materials,  cheap  and  abundant  food,  cheap 
labor,  and  facilities  for  procuring  the  raw  materials  to 
be  manufactured  advantageously  and  with  certainty. 

These  several  advantages  center  naturally  at  Ithaca, 
as  will  be  seen  by  a  reference  to  the  details  of  the  subject. 
Water  power  is  found  on  Fall  Creek  which  passes 
through  the  northern  portion  of  the  village,  to  the 
extent  of  500  feet  perpendicular  fall,  in  one  and  a  half 
mile  length  of  the  stream,  and  all  within  a  mile  and 
a  half  of  the  post  office.  The  minimum  power  of  each 
25  feet  of  this  fall  is  sufficient  to  drive  a  flour  mill  of 
eight  runs  of  stones.  There  are  two  other  streams  pass 
ing  through  the  village  which  afford  half  as  much  more 
power.  Of  this  vast  power,  eighty  per  cent,  is  idle,  and 
seeks  occupation  at  nominal  prices. 

Steam  power:  This  the  more  important  element  of 
manufacturing  power,  as  it  is  capable  of  indefinite  mul 
tiplication,  can  be  produced  cheaper  at  Ithaca  than  at 
any  other  place  in  the  State  on  navigable  waters.  This 


132«  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

cheapness  will  be  at  once  understood  when  it  is  men 
tioned  that  an  investigation  on  the  subject  of  the  Ithaca 
and  Towanda  rail  road,  now  in  progress  of  construc 
tion,  which  was  made  in  the  summer  of  1865,  resulted  in 
proving  that  the  coal  from  the  Barckley  mines  (at  the 
prices  then  prevailing  for  mining,  dressing  and  fitting 
the  coal  for  market,  an  allowance  of  fifty  cents  a  ton  as 
a  royalty  for  the  coal  in  the  mine,  and  rail  road  trans 
portation  to  Ithaca,  a  distance  of  65  miles),  could  be  laid 
down  at  Ithaca  for  a  cost  of  $2.50  per  ton.  In  seasons 
of  ordinary  prices,  this  coal  could  be  placed  at  Ithaca 
at  a  cost  of  $1.75  per  ton.  The  amount  of  developed 
coal,  in  and  near  the  Barckley  mines,  exceeds  fifty  mil 
lions  of  tons.  Such  facts  present  a  source  of  unlimited 
power,  at  the  lowest  possible  rates.  The  anthracite 
coal  also  reaches  Ithaca  cheaper  than  at  other  points  in 
the  State,  except  Binghamton  and  Owego. 

The  facilities  for  reaching  market  is  afforded  by  the 
New  York  and  Erie  railway,  the  Delaware,  Lackawanna 
and  Western  Rail  Road,  by  the  steamers  on  Cayuga 
Lake,  and  New  York  Central  R.  R.,  and  by  the  Erie 
Canal.  A  rail  road  which  is  soon  to  connect  Ithaca  with 
Sodus  Bay  and  Oswego  will  greatly  increase  these  facili 
ties.  It  is  also  expected,  at  no  distant  day,  that  the 
Cayuga  Lake  will  be  connected  to  Lake  Ontario  by  a 
ship  canal,  which  will  open  the  entire  chain  of  lakes 
from  Ogdensburg  to  Chicago  and  Superior  City,  to 
vessels  hailing  from  the  port  of  Ithaca.  With  this  im 
provement,  Ithaca  becomes  a  point  where  the  coals  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  the  ores  of  North-eastern  New  York, 
Canada  and  Lake  Superior  can  be  brought  together  at 
less  cost  than  at  any  other  point,  thus  giving  Ithaca 
superior  advantages  for  the  various  manufactures  of  iron 
and  copper.  A  large  traffic  would  soon  grow  up  be- 


MANUFACTURING  FACILITIES.  133 

tween  Ithaca  and  the  ore  supplying  regions  on  the  great 
lakes,  they  requiring  the  cheap  coals  from  Ithaca,  and 
Ithaca  in  turn  taking  their  ores,  thus  affording  tonnage 
both  ways,  which  produces  the  greatest  economy  in 
transportation. 

The  investigations  which  resulted  from  the  building 
of  the  Cornell  Library,  and  the  effort  to  secure  the  loca 
tion  of  the  asylum  for  the  blind  at  Ithaca,  demonstrated, 
that  building  materials  were  cheaper  at  Ithaca  than  at 
any  other  place  of  equal  population  in  the  State,  and 
that  manufacturing  buildings  could  be  erected  there  at 
twenty  per  cent,  less  cost  than  at  other  localities. 

The  same  is  the  fact  in  reference  to  food  and  labor. 
Ithaca  is  surrounded  by  an  excellent  agricultural  district 
of  mixed  products,  from  the  grain  and  the  dairy  farms, 
and  with  a  population  of  industry  and  thrift,  which 
would  supply  a  large  amount  of  help  for  any  class  of 
manufacturing. 

Ithaca  is  also  one  of  the  finest  fruit  districts  in  the 
State,  which  will  add  largely  to  the  luxuries  as  well  as 
the  cheapness  of  living.  Thus  it  will  be  seen,  as  fully  as 
can  be  shown  in  a  brief  article,  that  Ithaca  possesses 
desirable,  cheap  and  enduring  facilities,  for  a  prosperous 
manufacturing  town. 


ITHACA  IN  1834. 


BY  SOLOMON   SOUTHWICK. 

The  following  extract  is  from  a  pamphlet,  written 
thirty  years  ago,  by  the  late  eccentric  and  talented  Solo 
mon  Southwick : 

ITHACA,  September  llth,  1835.— When  I  visited  Ithaca 
last  year,  I  had  no  expectation  of  returning,  unless  it 
should  be  merely  to  pass  through  on  a  tour  among  the 
southern  tier  of  counties  on  the  west  side  of  the  Hudson : 
But  events,  in  the  order  of  Providence,  having  brought 
me  once  more  as  a  sojourn er,  to  this  delightful,  if  not 
enchanting  spot,  where  the  God  of  Nature  has  been  so 
lavish  of  his  bounties,  and  where  Art  is  yet  destined  to 
behold  some  of  her  noblest  triumphs ;  I  have  been  in 
duced,  at  the  request  of  several  gentlemen,  to  copy  for 
the  press,  some  particular  views  of  the  scenery  and  water 
powers  in  ami  about  Ithaca,  which  I  took  during  rny 
former  visit ;  inasmuch  as  they  may  lead  the  distant 
reader  to  form  clearer  views  of  the  future  prospects  of 
this  beautiful  and  interesting  village. 

I  am  no  landscape  painter,  and  have  never  been  in 
the  habit  of  descriptive  composition ;  but  had  I  the 
genius  of  Claude  Loraine,  as  a  painter  of  natural  scenery ; 
and  that  of  Shakespeare,  Milton,  or  Thompson,  as 
poetical  describers  of  such  scene^,  I  should  still  despair 
of  doing  anything  like  ample  justice  to  the  uncommonly 
beautiful  landscape  views;  the  grand  and  numerous 


ITHACA  IN  1834.  135 

waterfalls ;  and  the  sublime  height  of  steep  and  rugged 
rock,  or  verdant  mountain  top,  with  which  Ithaca  is 
surrounded ;  and  by  means  of  which  she  is  destined  not 
only  to  become  one  of  the  most  favorite  resorts  of 
fashion,  taste,  and  genius ;  but  one  of  the  most  wealthy 
and  flourishing  of  inland  cities ;  for  a  city  she  will  become 
of  no  small  magnitude,  long  before  the  rising  generation 
shall  have  passed  away.  This  prediction  is,  I  think,  jus 
tified  by  the  details  which  follow ;  and  that  it  will  be 
verified,  though  time  must  determine  this  point,  I  feel 
as  confident  as  I  do  that  I  am  now  wielding  my  pen. 
Nothing  can  prevent  it,  nothing  will  prevent  it  if  her 
present  population  possess  the  necessary  enterprise,  and 
take  the  proper  measures,  which  her  local  and  relative 
position  demands,  to  bring  her  into  notice,  and  hasten 
on  her  final  success.  "  Fortune  favors  the  bold,"  was  a 
heathen  maxim,  and  has  been  often  a  stimulant  wTith 
Christians  to  enterprise  and  perseverance ;  but  the  citi 
zens  of  Ithaca  have  only  to  believe,  what  is  no  doubt 
strictly  true,  that  whatever  they  undertake  for  the 
advancement  of  their  prosperity  and  happiness  with  a 
firm  reliance  on  Divine  Providence  for  success,  will  be 
brought  to  a  happy  conclusion.  God  never  forsakes  any 
who  trust  to  his  promises,  and  obey  his  laws :  And  more 
over,  where  the  foundations  of  human  prosperity  are  so 
broadly  and  so  deeply  laid  as  they  are  at  Ithaca,  the  very 
circumstance  is  an  invitation  from  the  Divine  Beneficence 
to  build  and  improve  upon  them  till  all  their  advantages 
are  completely  realized. 


AN  OLD  LAND  MARK 


THE  ITHACA  HOTEL. 

Standing  on  the  south-west  corner,  at  the  intersection 
of  Aurora  and  Owego  streets,  the  venerable  Ithaca  Hotel 
still  looks  on  with  a  benignant  smile  at  the  gliding 
throng  as  they  hurry  past  or  crowd  its  threshold,  and 
here  it  has  stood  for  the  last  half  century,  unchanged  and 
unmoved  by  the  world's  turmoil,  bustle  and  progress. 
Originally  erected  by  Luther  Gere,  Esq.,  one  of  the 
founders  and  early  pioneers  of  Ithaca,  it  was  looked  upon 
as  a  model  hotel;  and  amid  all  the  changes  of  time,  has 
maintained  its  early  reputation. 

Before  the  days  of  rail  roads  and  telegraphs,  from  its 
front  rolled  away  daily  the  various  stage  coaches  for 
Catskill,  Utica,  Geneva,  Buffalo,  and  the  lines  running 
to  all  points  of  the  compass ;  and  then  was  gathered  in 
its  halls  and  porticoes  the  hurrying  throngs  of  a  busy 
and  impatient  generation ;  those  who  then  complained 
of  slow  coaches,  and  were  not  quite  satisfied  to  make  the 
trip  to  New  York  in  the  unprecedented  short  time  of 
five  days,  alas !  have  passed  away  with  the  coaches  that 
bore  them  on,  and  a  new  generation  has  entered  into 
their  possession  and  taken  their  places,  and  like  their 
fathers  before  them,  still  complain  that  the  rail  consumes 
twelve  or  fourteen  hours  of  their  time  in  setting  them 
down  in  Broadway,  and  seem  quite  as  impatient  as  were 
their  ancestors  at  the  time-tables  of  the  Swift-sure  Line 


AN  OLD  LAND  MARK.  137 

of  United  States  mail  coaches,  the  echoes  and  dust  of 
whose  wheels  have  long  since  passed.  Few  have  been  the 
changes  wrought  by  time  in  the  old  Hotel ;  here  it  stands 
to-day,  venerable  in  years,  but  bright  in  its  .exterior,  and 
within  as  of  old  given  to  hospitality.  Less  ostentatious 
in  frescoed  ceilings  and  gilded  cornices  than  its  modern 
rivals,  it  wears  upon  its  every  feature  the  dignity  which 
time  alone  can  give,  and  boasts  more  of  memories  of  the 
past  than  promises  of  its  future.  Its  front  pavements 
have  been  bored,  not  for  oil ;  but  many  a  hickory  shaft 
has  been  put  down,  and  towering  aloft  with  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  given  to  the  breeze,  proclaimed  it  the  "  Old 
Tammany  of  Tompkins  County."  Its  halls  have  been 
packed  with  untold  conventions,  and  the  affairs  of  the 
Nation  in  all  its  changes,  have  been  discussed  by  a  gene 
ration  of  patriots.  Beneath  its  roof  gathered  the  patriots 
of  1812,  and  were  mustered  into  service ;  here  was  the 
roll  call  for  the  heroes  of  1861,  and  the  the  echoes  of 
the  traitors'  guns  had  not  died  away  from  Fort  Sumpter 
before  the  citizens  of  Tompkins  gathered  at  the  hearth 
stone  of  the  old  wigwam  to  offer  their  money  and  their 
lives  for  the  defence  of  the  Union. 

Its  ceilings  have  echoed  with  the  eloquence  of  De  Witt 
Clinton,  Silas  Wright,  Martin  Van  Buren,  and  a  host  of 
statesmen  who  have  passed  away.  Venerable  old  pile ! 
May  the  dust  of  Time  gather  lightly  on  thy  brow. 

Under  the  able  management  of  mine  host,  Col.  Welch, 
the  Prince  of  Landlords,  may  the  weary  who  seek  thy 
threshold  still  find  the  Ithaca  Hotel  a  home  for  the 
stranger,  with  a  genial  hand  to  welcome  their  arrival. 
A  table  of  the  choicest  viands  to  invite  their  indul 
gence  and  restore  their  wasted  energies,  and  when  the 
sojourner  for  a  day  or  month  departs  thy  hospitable 
18 


138  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

shelter,  we  are  sure  it  will  be  with  pleasant  memories, 
and  above  all,  we  are  sure  it  will  be  with  so  light  a  bill 
as  not  to  materially  endanger  the  bank  account  of  the 
departing  guest ;  and  if  regrets  are  experienced  at  all,  they 
wiU  be  only  felt  that  they  cannot  delay  their  visit  longer, 
and  enjoy  its  quiet  repose  and  the  urbane  courtesies  of 
its  presiding  spirit,  Col.  Wm.  H.  Welch. 


THE  CLINTON  HOUSE. 

In  two  classes  of  hotels  only,  can  Shenstone's  memo 
rable  stranger,  which  declares  that  life's  fairest  welcome 
is  found  at  an  Inn,  be  fully  appreciated.  In  those  snug, 
cosy,  delightful  little  affairs  which  were  before  the  rail 
road  era,  scattered  on  all  the  high  roads  of  England,  and 
in  those  superb  establishments  of  our  own  day,  when  all 
life's  necessities  and  most  of  life's  luxuries  are  in  the  call 
of  the  guest. 

A  great  revolution  in  the  conduct  of  a  hotel  was  made 
in  the  administration  of  Warriner  of  Springfield,  who 
so  suffused  his  table  with  delicacies,  that  a  week  at  his 
house  was  a  perpetual  feast  —  and  no  one  ever  sat  at  his 
tea  table  especially,  and  was  waited  on  by  "Emily" — 
but  that  he  found  a  new  chapter  in  the  gastronomic  life. 

Then  Boyden  of  the  Tremont  initiated  new  order  and 
discipline,  and  the  standard  has  been  increasing  in  its 
degree,  till  our  American  hotel  life  is  as  near  the  com 
plete  as  can  be  found  in  the  world. 

The  most  imposing  and  dignified  building  in  all  the 
beautiful  plain  of  Ithaca  is  the  Clinton  House.  Not  even 
the  elegant  Cornell  Library  edifice,  is  as  impressive  to 
the  entering  traveler.  In  those  massive  columns,  that 
broad  portico,  that  proportioned  rising  of  the  wThole  build 
ing  till  its  belvidere  crowns  all,  it  is  evident  that  the 
founders  of  this  admirable  House,  had  bold  ideas  of 
architectural  excellence.  It  bears  the  name  of  Clinton, 


142  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

because  at  the  date  of  its  formation,  that  statesman  had 
in  Ithaca  enthusiastic  friends,  who  were  glad  to  affix  his 
name  to  their  great  effort  in  enterprise.  The  people 
recognized  Clinton  as  the  founder  of  the  canal,  and  the 
Erie  canal  unlocked  the  treasures  of  the  West.  This 
laurel  can  we  never  unbind  from  the  brow  of  that  splen 
did  man. 

The  Clinton  House  is  situated  just  where  good  taste 
would  select.  In  the  centre  of  the  village,  near  its  park, 
directly  nigh  its  business  street,  on  an  avenue  which 
runs  from  the  hill  side  that  is  the  way  of  the  iron  road, 
far  down  to  the  beach  of  the  Lake.  The  situation  is  that 
which  would  now  be  selected,  and  this  is  high  praise, 
when  it  is  remembered  how  many  years  have  passed 
since  the  Clinton  House  was  erected. 

The  hospitable  record  of  the  House,  is  a  capacious  one. 
It  includes  statesmen  and  jurists,  and  also  of  travelers 
of  celebrity  who  have  shown  their  good  taste  in  jour 
ney  ing,  by  traversing  the  regions  of  the  Cayuga.  From 
the  venerable  Surveyor  General  De  Witt  (the  friend 
and  correspondent  of  Washington),  who  watched  its 
building  with  so  much  hope  of  its  success,  its  register 
has  been  graced  by  thousands  of  names,  good  and  true, 
not  the  least  interesting  page  in  which,  is  that  which 
records  the  signature  of  the  principal  diplomats  ac 
credited  to  our  government,  when  making  with  the 
Secretary  of  State,  their  tour  of  the  country. 

The  rebuilding  of  the  House  in  1862,  was  due  to  the 
increased  enterprise  of  Ithaca.  Mr.  Cornell  and  Mr. 
Thompson  together  planned  the  new  arrangements. 
They  made  the  house  a  modern  one.  It  was  a  stately 
and  capacious  one  in  its  old  devisings ;  but  it  now  has 
in  its  broader  spaces  and  more  beautiful  appointments, 
those  ways  of  living  which  our  more  fastidious  —  more 


THE  CLINTON  HOUSE.  143 

rapid  age  demands.  The  characteristics  of  the  Clinton 
House  is  its  comfortable  quiet.  It  is  a  home,  if  but  for 
the  night,  for  the  flitting  or  the  abiding  traveler,  it  is  the 
pleasant  resting  place. 

Its  dining  room  does  not  affect  one  as  over  large,  but 
as  just  the  nice  apartment  in  which  at  a  table  of  suitable 
size  his  meal  silently  and  luxuriantly  taken  in  ease. 
The  house  is  large  enough  for  all  purposes,  but  it  is 
snugly  arranged,  and  the  guest  is  delighted  to  find  that 
he  has  found  a  place  where  he  knows  that  he  is  to  be 
cared  for,  and  allowed  to  do  as  his  own  good  taste  may 
dictate. 

If  he  ascends  to  the  belvidere,  he  has  before  him  a 
picture  of  prosperity  —  a  pleasant  village  is  at  his  feet — 
houses,  churches,  shop  and  store  are  all  around  him  — 
he  sees  the  Inlet  like  a  small  Scottish  river  glittering  in 
the  midst  of  the  verdure  of  garden  and  of  hill ;  while  in 
the  not  far  distance,  the  broad  shield  of  the  Cayuga 
reflects  whatever  may  be  the  momentary  beauty  of  the 
shore  or  of  the  skies. 

The  valley  rises  to  easy  and  agreeable  drives.  All 
around  the  village,  scenery  of  the  romance  of  Swiss 
ravines  and  gorges  give  bold  relief  to  the  placid  beauty 
of  the  plain.  The  traveler  may  easily  be  allured  to 
days  of  abiding  in  this  pleasant  alteration  of  his  in  and 
out  door  life. 

The  landlord  will  care  for  him  and  not  intrude  on 
him.  Of  all  the  disciplined  service  of  his  house,  Mr. 
THOMPSON  may  be  the  quietest  man.  He  comprehends 
what  the  well  ordered  rules  of  such  a  house  should  be. 
They  are  given  and  obeyed,  and  he  sees  that  the  routine 
is  observed ;  and  in  this  wise  care  for  the  security  and 
ease  of  his  guest,  the  high  reputation  of  the  Clinton 
House  is  preserved. 


144  SCENERY  OF  ITHACA. 

No  one  that  sees  what  the  action  of  our  rapid,  urgent, 
nomadic  life  in  this  country  is,  can  doubt  the  value  to  a 
village  that  seeks  to  maintain  itself  in  its  place  of  power 
as  a  community,  of  such  establishments  as  is  the  Clinton 
House.  It  gives  the  ready  answer  to  a  question  travel 
ers  ask,  where  shall  I  go  ?  It  makes  of  Ithaca,  a  desira 
ble  mark  in  the  journey,  and  the  tourist  calculates  his 
progress  by  time.  These  pages  of  favorable  word  will 
be  justified  by  the  experience  of  those  who  come  to 
Ithaca.  They  will  be  but  the  approved  meed  of  each 
traveller. 

The  Clinton  House  was  built  from  1828  to  1831.  It 
owes  its  existence  to  the  large  purposed  enterprise  of 
Jeremiah  S.  Beebe,  Henry  Ackley  and  Henry  Hibbard, 
gentlemen  whose  names  cannot  be  dissevered  from  the 
history  of  the  progress  of  Ithaca.  They  built  in  ad 
vance  of  their  day,  but  so  do  all  men  who  dare  to  do 
bold  and  liberal  acts.  Those  were  dream  like  days  for 
building,  for  the  great  structure  originally  cost  only 
($22,000)  twenty-two  thousand  dollars.  The  brick  cost 
$2.25  per  thousand.  The  master  carpenter  received  his 
one  dollar  twenty-five  cents  per  day  —  other  carpenters 
and  masons  from  75  cts.  to  one  dollar  per  day.  Our 
new  forests  yielded  their  lumber  in  the  choicest  and 
best  at  ten  dollars  per  thousand  —  the  common  not  five 
dollars.  The  times  are  changed  indeed.  The  new  re 
pairs  which  Messrs.  Cornell  and  Thompson  made  to  the 
building  cost  ten  thousand  dollars.  Mr.  Morris,  who 
yet  survives,  was  the  master  builder. 

The  construction  of  the  stairs  was  however  considered 
a  work  of  so  much  difficulty,  that  the  services  of  a  New 
York  artist  were  procured.  Our  builders  in  1865,  would 
build  a  staircase  to  the  planets,  if  the  structure  could  find 
foundation. 


THE  CLINTON  HOUSE.  145 

The  Clinton  House  in  locality  succeeds  the  Columbian 
Inn  —  and  faint  traces  of  the  Revolutionary  period  can 
be  noticed  in  this  name,  as  Columbia  was  a  favorite 
eagleism  of  our  writers  and  orators  in  the  twilight  influ 
ences  of  the  war  that  made  us  a  nation. 

Spencer  and  Dunning  opened  this  house.  It  stands 
to-day,  of  the  first  class,  and  prominent  in  that  class,  of 
all  the  hotels  outside  of  the  larger  cities.  It  shall  yet,  we 
trust,  witness  with  all  that  honor  the  opening  banquet, 
which  shall  be  spread  before  scholars  and  thinkers  and 
men  of  art  and  full  life,  to  celebrate  the  completion  of 
the  Cornell  University. 


19 


FIREMAN'S  MONUMENT,  ITHACA. 


The  above  monument  stands  in  the  beautiful  cemetery 
of  Ithaca.  The  lot  is  for  the  free  burial  of  any  Fireman. 
From  this  point  there  is  one  of  the  finest  views  in  the 
world.  The  village  is  below;  the  Lake  at  the  south,  and 
the  hills  and  valleys  at  the  north  and  west. 


LICK  BROOK. 


Spirit  of  Beauty,  and  nursling  of  light, 
Phantom  in  essence,  yet  potent  in  might, 
The  forest  depths  and  tangled  wild, 
Joy  to  welcome  thee  —  Nature's  child. 
To  the  yearning  heart  of  a  lonely  nook, 
Thou  gavest  the  murmuring,  tuneful  brook. 
Long  years  have  come,  and  years  have  gone, 
But  the  song  it  sang,  that  brook  sings  on ; 
The  flowers  of  Spring  still  blush  at  its  wooing, 
And  mosses  rejoice  at  its  eager  pursuing. 

List !  the  rocks  to  the  rivulet  loudly  are  calling, 
While  resonant  denies  the  echoes  prolong, 
"  Come,  O  thou  fair  streamlet !  no  danger  appalling, 
Shall  check  the  full  tide  of  thy  musical  song." 

"  O'er  this  desolate  bosom,  no  blossoms  are  flinging, 
Their  odors  from  censers  of  purple  and  gold, 
These  rude  arms  extend,  but  no  tendrils  come  clinging, 
More  genial  the  natures  they  fondly  enfold." 

The  loitering  rivulet,  softly  revealing, 
Its  love  to  the  blossoms  that  smiled  at  its  side, 
In  hidden  recesses,  its  currents  concealing, 
Burst  forth  in  the  fullness  of  sympathy's  tide. 

Then  swifter  and  stronger,  the  torrent  rushed  sweeping, 
Along  its  cool  margin,  fresh  verdure  unrolled, 
It  bathed,  as  it  sprang,  the  stern  precipice  leaping, 
Bald  foreheads  of  granite,  grown  centuries  old. 

As  years  hasten  on,  thro'  the  distance  resounding, 
The  waters  their  spray -wreathed  sisters  will  call, 
Whose  echoing  footsteps  in  joyous  rebounding, 
Upon  memory's  ear  shall  refreshingly  fall. 


150  SCENERY  OP  ITHACA. 

I  have  wandered  afar,  amid  ruins  enshrouded 
In  loving  regret  by  the  dark  evergreen, 
The  cocoa's  shade,  and  the  sunlight  unclouded, 
And  billowy  verdure  adorned  the  fair  scene. 

Over  lone,  barren  deserts,  unblest  by  sweet  fountains, 
Or  pausing  to  rest  by  Pacific's  calm  tide, 
Or  climbing  the  steeps  of  Nevada's  grey  mountains, 
Whose  summits  uprear  in  their  desolate  pride. 

In  fancy,  I've  heard  the  bright  waters  replying, 
To  breezes  that  wander  through  Ithaca's  vale, 
As  impetuous  Youth  breathed  aifection  undying, 
And  warm  lips  repeated  love's  own  fairy  tale. 

There  are  those  we  have  cherished,  no  longer  returning, 
Who  listened  with  us  to  deep  Taghkanic's  roar, 
A  mightier  anthem  they  since  have  been  learning 
From  surges  that  break  on  Eternity's  shore. 

H.  N.  R. 
Oyster  Bay,  L.  I.,  May  8th,  1866. 


Of  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

Of 


BUSINESS  LOCALITIES,  ETC. 

Steamboats  from  Central  Rail  Road  to  Ithaca. 
KATE  MORGAN,  Capt.  Goodrich.  AUKOBA,  Capt.  Dryer. 

SHELDBAKE,  Capt.  Ryerson. 

Rail  Roads. 

DELAWABE  and  LACKAWANNA,  from  Erie  Rail  Road  at  Owego,  to 
Ithaca  ;  Wm.  R.  Humphrey,  Superintendent. 

Hotels. 

CLINTON  HOUSE,      »  ITHACA  HOTEL, 

S.  D.  Thompson.  W.  H.  Welch. 

TOMPKIN'S  HOUSE,  FABMERS1   EXCHANGE, 

Holmes  &  Stamp.  E.  H.  Watkins. 

FABMEBS'  HOTEL,  LIVERMORE  HOUSE, 

J.  B.  Scott.  C.  Livermore. 

Hallt, 

HALL  in  Cornell  Library.          VILLAGE  HALL.          CLINTON  HALL. 

Post  Office. 
In  Cornell  Library,  J.  H.  Selkreg,  P.  M. 

Schools. 

ITHACA  ACADEMY,  S.  G.  Williams,  Principal.    Female  Department — 

Mrs.  S.  G.  Williams,  Principal. 
DISTRICT  SCHOOL  No.  16,  S.  B.  Howe,  Prin.    Several  private  schools. 

Ithaca  Brass  Band. 
A.  B.  Whitlock,  Leader. 

Telegraphs. 

UNITED  STATES  TELEGRAPH,          WESTERN  UNION  TELEGRAPH, 
Miss  J.  A.  Nourse,  Operator.  J.  H.  Tichenor,  Operator. 

Newspapers. 

AMEBICAN  CITIZEN  AND  DEMOCBAT,  Spencer  &  Williams. 
ITHACA  JOUBNAL  AND  ADVEBTISEB,  J.  H.  Selkreg. 


ERRATA. 

As  one  of  the  writers  for  this  work,  who  has  contributed  a  larger 
number  of  sketches  than  any  other,  was  unable  to  read  the  proof 
while  the  book  was  going  through  the  press,  it  is  deemed  only  jus 
tice  to  him  to  add  the  following  table  of  the  principal  Errata  occur 
ring  in  his  articles,  which  will  be  corrected  in  the  text  of  the  next 
edition.  The  errors  were  probably  made  in  transcribing  the  original 
manuscript  by  another  hand  unacquainted  with  his  handwriting. 

Page  10,  for  "  extra  "  read  "  extreme." 
"  11,  for  "  ruinous  "  read  "  rimous." 
"  12,  for  "nodose"  read  "uodosi,"  and  for  "Sully"  read'1 

"  Tally." 

"     13,  for  "  made  an  effort  "  read  "  made  no  effort." 
'•     13,  the  Note  belongs  on  page  95. 
"      20,  for  "  descending  "  read  "  ascending,"  and  for  "  gardens  " 

read  "  garlands." 

"      21,  insert  "you"  before  "will  find." 
"     22.  for  "mills  of  the  Gods"  read  "mills  of  God." 

20,  for  "sound"  read  "  sounds." 
"     29,  for  "  wee  things  "  read  "  wee  thing." 

30,  omit  the  word  "juxtaposition"  after  the  word  "line." 
••     31,  read  "  opposite,  a  frowning  wall  of  rock  rises,"  &c. 
"      32,  for  "situation  "  read  "  situations." 
••     33,  for  "  sufficiently  if  front"  read  "  sufficiently  in  front." 
• '      30,  for  ' '  280  ' '  read" k  •  480. " 

87,  after  "  erroneously  "  insert  "  transferred." 
"     96,  for  -  face-like  "  read  fan-like." 
"     97,  after  "  attractive  place  "  insert  a  semi-colon,  and  a  comma 

after  "as it  is." 

"     98,  insert  "  you  gain  "  before  "a  distant  view.'1 
' '     102,  for  not  intent "  read  "  so  intent." 


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